


The Heart Of Darkness: Edeleth's Slow Romance

by LordOfEl



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Children, F/F, F/M, Marriage, Platonic Relationships, Post-Game(s), Post-Time Skip, Slow Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordOfEl/pseuds/LordOfEl
Summary: It is Imperial Year 1185. The Great War wages on.Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg lies in waiting, hoping for her beloved Professor, the son of the legendary Jeralt. She wishes for his tactical genius to crush her enemies. She dreams of a bright future for Fódlan and...for the two of them.Will the Goddess hear the prayer of the Emperor of Flames, or will her Empire fall into ruin at the hands of the Church? Will her love remain unrequited?
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Catherine/Rhea (Fire Emblem), Dorothea Arnault/Bernadetta von Varley, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault, Ferdinand von Aegir/Manuela Casagranda, Jeritza von Hrym & My Unit | Byleth, Linhardt von Hevring/Lysithea von Ordelia, Petra Macneary/Hubert von Vestra, Raphael Kirsten & Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. Resurrected Dreams

The cool flow of time passed over him. His breath was shallow, his heart slow as he passed through a shapeless world.

He couldn't see anything. The blackness dominated all of his vision. The void even commanded most of his memories.

Who was he? 

Was he even a he? What about a she, or perhaps a it? 

He did not know, so he might as well continue to refer to himself as such. 

Time seemed to ebb and flow consistently. Time itself was his only companion. 

His mind was full of fog. He couldn't recall anything.

No, that wasn't true. He had a vague memory of a...person. Was he one of those?

This person...they wore clothes of black and gold, with a red cape and matching red tights. They were young, around his own age. She...this person was a she...well, they had curious white hair, and lavender eyes.

Edelgard. Her name was Edelgard. 

She was his friend. Why was he suddenly remembering all of this?

His brain ached, like it was trying to overcome some great burden.

Other figures seemed to appear in his mind now, surrounding her. One with purple, tousled hair. A blue haired fiery one, one who carried himself with all of the pomp of a noble. 

His students, these were his students. His students from the Monastery. They needed him. 

He could start to feel tingles in his body. What was once as still as a corpse, began showing a sparkle of life. 

He could feel a... tingle down his spine. He had a spine? 

It felt wet.

He stepped up, momentarily dunking his head under the waters of the great Airmid river, before surfacing for a breath of untainted air. 

The Ashen One's thick, emerald green dripped water down onto his blackened mercenary armor. The shapeless void disappeared as his eyes opened. 

Where...the hell...what the hell...who the hell... 

A voice he worried about was gone forever practically shouted in a shrill, churlish voice. Sothis. 

"Must you always react so to unknown circumstances? Do you have any idea just how long it has been?" 

"Sothis? You're...alive?" 

"Yes, I am alive! Did I not tell you that I would always be with you! We are one now, that does not mean that I am dead!" 

Byleth's sword, the Sword of the Creator, was practically burning a hole in his pocket it was so warm. The sword was glowing with the power of a Goddess. Perhaps it was greeting the resurrection of its master? Could a sword sense his presence? 

He looked around, trying to catch his bearing. He was definitely in the Airmid, this river was massive. That meant he was on the eastern half of Fódlan. On the northern side of the river, where green cypress trees grew in parallel with the marshy, green-infested beach, a traveler was staring at him from the cobbled road. The road he stood on was dotted with yellow banners, the symbol of a deer standing proud on them. Alliance territory. They must be on the border. 

Byleth called out to the man, cupping his hands around his extremely chapped lips.

"What time is it, sir?" 

The man responded curtly, but respectfully. 

"Uh...Why are you in the river?" 

That was a wonderful question. Byleth remembered slamming his head against a chunk of Garreg Mach's wall...and then the void embraced him. 

"I don't know, honestly. Now answer my question." 

"Noon." 

Byleth gripped his head. He had a massive headache. 

"Ugh...sorry, I mean, what day is it?" 

He responded more wearily now. 

"...A Tuesday? The Ethereal moon." 

That didn't tell him anything...how long was he asleep?! 

"What is the year?" 

The man looked at him bewildered. 

"Are you yanking my chain? Really? The year?" 

"I'm serious.... swear to Sothis." 

"It's 1185. Now are you satisfied? You shouldn't be so close to the border. Those Imperial border guards shoot first, ask questions later." 

"Could you at least point me in the way of Garreg Mach?" 

The Professor stepped out onto the riverfront, shaking himself off as well as he could. 

"That's West from here. But the Imperial army is there. They'll kill you." 

Byleth ignored him, trying to get the water out of his ear. The Sword of the Creator glows at his waist. A warm hum reverberating from its hilt. 

"Alright mate, it's your funeral. *Muttering* weirdo."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth gripped the hilt of his sword as he gingerly walked up the weathered stone stairs of Garreg Mach. 

Wooden palisades, and towers had been erected in the time since he had fallen asleep. His friends were obviously serious about defending this place. Garreg Mach provided ready access to the whole of Fódlan, and, more importantly, was of high symbolism to the Church. For the Empire to hold it, gave legitimacy to Edelgard's cause. At the very least, it proved she was not to be trifled with. 

Archers crouched on the tops of the sturdy oak towers, staring down at him. His grip on the Sword of the Creator tightened like a vice.

A guard, donning the armor of an Imperial soldier from Enbarr, with a black cape, stood stoic at the ancient brownstone gate. 

The Mercenary hailed him.  
"Hail Guardsman!" 

The Guard, a skinny man, with a well waxed mustache which had enough manly vigor to make-up for his lack of stature, clanged his spear into the ground. 

"Hail! Who goes!" 

"Byleth...Eisner. Son of Jeralt, the Mercenary." 

The man double-blinked without flinching. 

"Papers?” 

"Huh?" 

"Apologies Byleth, son of Jeralt. I see you have not been to Garreg Mach before. Papers are required. They have been since the start of the Great War." 

"I don't have any papers."

The man squinted, his eye brows forced up like springs.

"Why do you not have any papers?"

Byleth scratched his chin, chuckling lightheartedly, hoping for some sympathy.

"Eh heh, well you aren't going to believe it, but I just woke up in a river." 

"Waking up in a river, waking up in a lava flow. It does not make a difference to me, sir. You need papers to enter. We've had too many spies from Fhaergus." 

The Professor sighed, stepped closer to the man, and looked at him in the eyes, closely. He was cautious about trying it, but maybe he should try to pull rank? He had never had any sort of prestige to try this before. This is how nobles conducted their business, right? 

"Perhaps I was not clear. Let me say it plainly: I am Professor Byleth, The teacher of Edelgard." 

The man recoiled. 

"You will refer to her lady, the Emperor by her proper title." 

Oh, right. Edelgard was an Emperor now...he should have expected that would be seen as a slight... 

"Listen, we're personal friends. I meant no foul by it. Please, could you let me pass through?" 

The man shook his head firmly. 

"No, you shall not pass. I am not buying that you are friends with the Emperor. You are just another troublemaker." 

The Professor stepped back as the Guard lifted his spear, preparing to scare him off. 

His lungs swelled with air, readying for a sprint. Jeralt encouraged him to flee when the enemy was of obvious superior force. Byleth was confident in his abilities to take down this single guard, though he did not want to. But a whole Imperial Battalion? Those snipers? Forget it, that would be a no-win scenario.

A thick voice, accompanied by a blonde woman in red armor, walking at a brisk pace, spoke, as they gripped the Guards spear-handle. 

"Michael! This is the Enlightened One, the Emperor's teacher from her time at the Monastery!" 

"That's what he is claiming Ladislava, but he doesn't even look like the Professor!" 

"Michael. We have monthly meetings about him. You seriously forgot? Look, there is a picture of him literally behind your shoulder, on that poster." 

The Captain pointed her pale, sort of thick pointer finger at a poster behind the Guard.

Byleth could see over the man's shoulder was a print of his very likeness, on fresh parchment, with the caption: "Wanted: Byleth Eisner. Unharmed. 100,000 Gold for Finder, paid for by the Imperial Treasury." 

They were offering how much for his return? 100,000 gold...that was worth...at least 10 years of pay for his Father's mercenary company. For the entire company. 

The Guardsman's face turned a whole different shade of white. He bowed furiously, and repeatedly, suddenly in awe. 

"So sorry Professor, so sorry. Should have recognized you at once!" 

Ladislava, the Guard's commanding Officer, gripped the Professors shoulder as she led him through the front gates. 

Garreg Mach was still bustling, but with Imperial citizenry now, rather than students. 

There was still the old market, clamoring with shop keeps peddling their wares, booths with multi-colored tarps guarding their product from the weather. But he could see townspeople gathering around new stalls. He could smell them before he saw what they were selling. Fresh produce from the North, aromatic spices to the South.

As people saw his face, most bowed much like the Guard, or just gaped. A few of the children climbed up onto the vein-blanketed east wall, trying to get a better vantage over the adults.

Byleth was used to being stared out, but it was usually by people who thought he was creepy, the "Ashen Demon" not those chasing his shadow. 

Ladislava led him up through the entry hall of the Monastery. 

The room had been redecorated, with Imperial colors flying from the walls, and a sizeable portrait of the Emperor, Edelgard, donning the crimson red vestments of her office, above the doorway before the bridge to the Cathedral. Fresh foliage that appeared to have Bernadetta's care written all over it dotted the sides. 

"The Emperor has taken up semi-permanent residence in the Monastery, living mostly in Garreg Mach, and going to Enbarr when her presence is needed there. She has a certain fondness for the place. We've all become accustomed to it. 

"It was a home for my class when we were all together." 

"Do you also feel sentimental about the place?" 

"I don't normally feel sentimental...about places. Being a Merc and all." 

Ladislava nodded in agreement.

"Aye, I'm not a fan of being overly attached to things either. People, sure. My comrade, Randolf for example, I'd take a sword to the keister for that man."

He thought of Jeralt, and of his friends.

"Yes, people I'm sentimental about."

Ladislava offered to follow the Professor up the stairs to the Chapel of the Archbishop, up to his destiny...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Candles lay, some half-bent over yet still aflame on the windowsill of Edelgard's studyroom. A small incense burner was among them, wafting a blend of aromatics that reminded her of Enbarr. Hyperia, an extremely young black Wyvern no more than a foot tall that liked to roost on a bird post she had set up for it was her only company.

The room had little steps leading up to the window, in front of which was a podium where the Archbishop, when this was her study, would read Scriptures to herself. The zealot she was, she read them daily. Edelgard had Hubert, her right-hand quietly put them away in storage. She had no use for such vanities. Stone walls, draped in purple tapestries held up the room.

Her head fell, crestfallen. Strands of her white hair, those not contained neatly in her buns, dropped below into her unsteady fingers.

Five years. Five years had passed now, to the day since her beloved Professor had been stolen from her. 

It was her fault. She could have, should have told him to stay at Enbarr. He mattered too much to lose. She should have refused to let him join the Imperial forces, and just stayed out of the war. She would not have him fight for the Church, she was so thankful he chose her, even if it still boggled her mind. But did she have to let him fight? Why not order him to just...stay safe? He could stay safe, in the palace, locked away, so he would never be lost. This was her fight, not his. 

She bit her lip in anguish. Of course, she knew that was impossible. She could never keep him, like a canary in a birdcage, yearning to live free. He would never agree to it. But did he have to be the first to be stolen away? 

Only she had to be a victim of the darkness. Not him, not any of the other Black Eagles. She would succumb to the darkness if that was required to vanquish it...but not the Professor. 

The Emperor of Adrestia knelt her head down over her clasped hands, praying. 

"Goddess, Sothis. Please, ensure the safe return of the Professor to us." 

She knelt on a cushion in the Chapel's study room, where Archbishop Rhea had once stood with her fake smile. 

Slow, methodical, barely noticeable steps approached from behind her. 

The shallow voice of her right-hand rang in her left eardrum.

"Lady Edelgard, are you...praying?" 

Hubert stood behind her, a slight slouch into his black cloak. 

"It's the day we lost him...I don't know what else to do, Hubert!" 

"Send out a search party? Perhaps have me reach out to my contacts? 

"Oh, we've tried all of that! For ages now, without so much as a lead!" 

She was exasperated. It felt like nearly every month they searched for him, without luck. What was she supposed to do? 

"So instead of trusting in my methods, you pray to the Goddess? Do you believe in Sothis now in your desperation?" 

"No, I don't. Kneeling here reminds me of when I was a little girl, on my knees in my cell at the palace, begging for her to free me, and she never did. But for some reason, she protects Byleth. Maybe she answers prayers for him." 

"That's rather silly of you." 

She groaned.

"Silly? Hubert, I don't need your condescension. I am just testing every possible pathway to find him!"

He rested his eyes. He had been too harsh. She was in such difficult straits over the Professor's loss, more than the others.

"I apologize, Lady Edelgard. Forgive my shortsightedness."

The Emperor clutched her hands tightly. She just knew that he still had to be out there, wanting to be with them. 

Her eyes rested on her closed palms. Byleth had to be alive. 

Someone knocked on the doorway three times in quick succession. 

Hubert had a way of finding little ways to distract her in special moments with trollish behavior. He really did enjoy poking her buttons.

"Hubert, I am already aware of your presence! Stop that right now!" 

"Lady Edelgard, that was not me." 

"Edelgard?" 

Edelgard froze. That voice. It had the accent of a commoner, one like any other. But that voice...it fell on her ears like warm liquid sunbeams.

She turned around, staring at a face she had been wishing to see for half a decade. 

"P-Professor?!" 

Hubert looked at him, shocked for once. 

"It can't be you! We checked everywhere." 

The Professor stood in front of her. 

"It is me." 

She effortlessly jumped up, grabbing him, pulling him close to her. 

The Emperor held him in a dead-lock hug. Her arms, built-strong by years of training with the axe, kept him close. The Emperor was not nearly as thick as Catherine, the Knight of Seiros, but her arms were not simply lithe, frail tender things either. Toned bundles of muscle crowded around his waist.

"Where have you been all of these years? We've been searching for you?!" 

"I was...eh...dead." 

He snorted a little, before returning to his usual stoicness. 

Her face was flushed with anger. 

"Don't you joke like that at a time like this! Do not you dare joke like that ever! Do you know how worried I was? How guilty? If you died, it would have been on my shoulders." 

Hubert spoke softer now than earlier, aware of Edelgard's visceral, strong emotional reaction to seeing the Professor return to them. He truly did not want to upset her, only jest a bit. 

"We feared you had been taken to Fhirdiad by the Immaculate One. None of us doubted you were alive, but in your torpor, someone could have easily abducted you. Even I worried about your safety, I must admit." 

Byleth reached his right hand up to her face, cupping it in his hand. Her skin was soft and warm. It was well-moisturized. 

"How could you all blame yourselves? I chose this life too." 

She gripped his neck now, pulling his head down to look into her eyes. 

"I know you did. I'm forever grateful to you for that. But the thought that you might have been lost for my cause...I...well, it would not be right!" 

She rested her head on him now. 

"Don't leave us again. We...we managed these last five years, but we weren't the same without you. Your magic...I...we were incomplete without you." 

She stared, entranced by his jade colored eyes. There was something calming about them, like a warm cup of Bergamot tea. 

"I won't leave you again Edelgard. Any of you." 

Byleth held the back of her head, stroking her little stubbly neck hair. Her whole face looked to be burning red. 

Edelgard was soothed by his words. She had waited so long in torment over her decisions, asking herself if she had lost such a close friend forever. Such a lovely man.

"Edelgard, are you...getting worked up?" 

"I am not...I'm not a little girl anymore. I haven't the privilege to cry for a while now." 

Hubert nodded. 

"Lady Edelgard has an indomitable composure fitting of an Emperor of her lineage. A true Hresvelg." 

Byleth suddenly broke out into a fit of laugher, letting go of Edelgard enough to look the two of them in the eyes. 

Edelgard got that scowly look on her face she took on whenever he made a joke she found embarrassing. 

"Professor! Are you laughing at me? How is this funny to you? This is a serious situation!" 

He wiped his lips of spittle with his sleeve. 

"Ha...I'm...just..ha...woooh. Sorry. I just can't believe how deadpan Hubert still is." 

Hubert chortled. 

"Ha! On the contrary Professor, I think this little moment has been quite too emotional. We've all been quite vulnerable right now. Considering the circumstances, I'll forgive it." 

Edelgard turned towards him. 

"What are you talking about? You have not even offered him a hug yet." 

"I don't intend to." 

Byleth's grin grew devious. 

"Come on, give your Professor a hug Hubert." 

Byleth snuck up towards Hubert, approaching him like he was stalking prey.

Hubert stepped back away, readying his hands. His voice was harsh like a rabid badger.

"I warn you Professor! A Vestra is skilled in black magic. I could rip open your heart, from the inside, ten yards away!" 

The Professor simply shook his head. He wasn't phased by Hubert. 

"A handshake?" 

Hubert lowered his hands from his battle stance.

"If it would cause you and Lady Edelgard to leave me be, then so be it." 

Hubert's and his hand met in the middle. The son of house Vestra gripped his arm with the strength of a full-grown man. Hubert was an adult now. 

He continued shaking, looking at the Professor with little revealing his emotions.

"I did find your absence challenging Professor. The others will be pleased to hear of your return." 

Edelgard pushed her hand up, and looked towards her loyal agent. 

"Hubert...would you go collect everyone? We'll meet you all in the Chapel, the Professor and I need a moment alone..." 

He bowed. 

"Of course." 

Hubert slammed the door behind him, heading out to find his classmates. 

Edelgard looked into the eyes of her professor, her purple eyes of imperial glory glowing with some sort of passion. 

She looked towards the door, trying to hear Hubert. 

"Do you think he is gone?" 

"I think so Edelgard. I can't hear him anymore." 

"Please hold me." 

Byleth looked at her. Her head was cast aside, and she hid her face from him behind her hand. Red-armored gloves covering her hands. Should he? 

"Edelgard...I don't know if we should..." 

"Professor. Hug me. I didn't wait five years to let you go so easily. With you, it will be special. Please." 

He approached her gently, wrapping his arms around her frame. 

The Emperor of Adrestia dug into his neck. She didn't shed a tear, or blush anymore. She just tried to take in his warmth. Warming herself off of the heart that never beat. 

Byleth felt warm enough already, and he was not used to such displays of emotion. Jeralt was never much of a hugger. But he found himself holding onto this moment all the same.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Edelgard put her ear to the wooden door, listening. 

She wanted to hear what their friends were talking about in the Chapel. Edelgard wasn't usually the snooping type, but she was curious. Byleth moved in closer to her, his boots thumping against the smooth stone brick floor. 

"Shhh, I think I hear them out there. Hubert is talking to Linhardt." 

He nudged even closer to her, leaning on her side. Byleth gripped her shoulder for support.

"What are they talking about?" 

"He's...complaining about being woken up. Ugh, Linhardt! It's well past evening!" 

"Wait, I can't hear..." 

He leaned in further, trying to get closer to the door. The Professor held onto her shoulder, while attempting to put his ear against the door next to her.

His legs were unstable, as he was standing on his toes. 

"Professor, wait! You're going to push us both over..." 

The door flew ajar. Byleth landed squarely atop the Emperor, so that he was looking down at her...straddling her waist. 

He looked directly down at her. She was blushing heavy, and was obviously a little uncomfortable. Byleth's face was just blank, a little surprised, but his face didn't reveal embarrassment.

Dorothea giggled. 

"Oh Edie! You found our Professor...and you're keeping him all to yourself?" 

Petra looked at them both perplexed. Her thick plum-colored hair was braided into thick ropes of hair, draped over her shoulders. She had brightly-colored, tribal leather attire on, that was a little revealing around the waist, showing off her fit stomach. Petra's abs were impossible to miss. Petra cared little about her appearance though. Her beauty was natural, with only her markings for makeup. Her strength was meant for the power of her sword, not for impressing suitors. She was Brigid's pride, not a man's.

"What were they making of...I mean doing in there?" 

Ferdinand just laughed. 

"Ha! It seems it is Edelgard who is embarrassed this time." 

Hubert moaned. 

"Would you all quit it! The Emperor and Professor were just chatting, and becoming reacquainted with each other. I am positive that is all they were doing alone." 

The Professor helped Edelgard up after him. She dusted herself off briskly, hastily adjusting her horned crown back into place. 

"Hubert is right. Honestly, isn't everyone just excited to see the Professor back?" 

Caspar jumped at the chance, barreling towards the Professor. 

The younger son of Count Bergliez embraced him in a bear hug. 

"Yeah! How lucky can we be!" 

Petra smiled. 

"Yes, luck is ours to be having you here Professor." 

Dorothea waved to him. 

"Certainly. Do you somehow look more grizzled than before? I like it Professor." 

He winked at her, his mouth twisting into a smile. 

"You look even prettier than last we met, Dorothea."

She fluttered her eyes as she smiled back.

"Oh...Professor. Such a charmer."

Bernadetta shocked him, running towards him. She hesitated more than Caspar, careful not to step on anyone's shoes, but she came for him. 

She hugged him from the side, trying not to get in Caspar's way. 

But Caspar put an arm around her, funneling her in to their group hug. 

"Come on Bernadetta! Get in here!" 

"Oh...Okay. I missed you too Professor!" 

Byleth put a hand into her hair, his sort of lanky fingers coursing through her violet hair.

"Your hair Bernadetta, it's so well-kempt. You seriously have grown so much. I hope you're as much of a warrior as last time I saw you?"

"Caspar says I'm even more of one Professor. I bet...yeah, I could even take my Father! Um...please don't make me do that though. I like it here."

Linhardt exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Oh I'm so happy to see you as well Professor. Now that you're here, I can do less work." 

Ferdinand gripped his knee, bending over quickly in a stretch before responding to Linhardt. 

"Seriously Linhardt? Is that the only reason you are happy. This is a joyous day indeed!" 

"No you know Ferdinand, I am honestly happy to see the Professor... I am just also pleased my load should be lighter now." 

Hubert spoke. 

"We lost not one from our ranks. That is due in large part to the healing magic of Linhardt, I dare say. We all missed you." 

Caspar blurted out his thoughts per usual. 

"Edelgard more than the rest of us!" 

Edelgard hid her face behind her armored forearm, blushing. 

"Caspar, please! We all missed him plenty." 

"Oh come on Edelgard, be honest. She took your absence real hard Professor." 

Edelgard hid her face further, trying to keep the sight of her sweating out of the Professor's eyes. 

He saw her. Byleth could tell that Edelgard was obviously blushing over him, but he didn't want to make a scene, for her sake. She probably just missed her friend. He was amazed with his student's concern for him. 

"I am really happy to back with you all. You have all grown a lot. Petra, your skills in Fódlan's language have improved. Bernie, you seem more self-sure...and Caspar! You're almost as tall as I am now. Almost." 

Caspar balked. 

"Hey! I'll take you here, right now Professor!" 

Byleth taunted him, coolly quipping back. 

"Let's go, Bergliez." 

Caspar jumped at the chance, but Hubert quickly thrust his arm in between them, stopping Caspar. 

The blue-haired demon of the Empire practically growled at Hubert, spit flying off his tongue.

"Come on Hubert, let me at him! I have five extra years of training on him! I bet I can actually beat him in a brawl now!" 

Hubert shoved Caspar back, stepping between them. 

"No, now is not the time for your games, Bergliez. We have a war to fight, and do not need you in the infirmary, or worse a casket after fighting the Professor!" 

Hubert reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a kerchief to wipe his pale face with.

"Ugh...you sent your spittle flying everywhere!"

Edelgard looked back to them now. Her eyes seemed to rest on Byleth's, even though she was talking to everyone. She was in inspecting him.

"Hubert is right. The Alliance will not wait around for us, we need to strike soon." 

Hubert relaxed his arm, and settled his own eyes on his Lady. Hubert was no fool. He could tell how much she longed for Byleth. He knew that she would do nothing to distract herself from their goal, but she had attached herself firmly to him almost immediately after returning. Five years of separation could not cleave her off of him. Fortunately, Hubert was convinced that the Professor was less of a liability then he presumed in years past. He'd hate for Byleth to get hurt. 

A man who was willing to give his whole life to Lady Edelgard's cause might have ulterior motives, but his motives were at least aligned with hers, whatever they might be. For now. 

"I think it would be the wisest course of action for us to retire for the night, and meet for a war room tomorrow morning. Lady Edelgard and I have some initial planning to worry about. When we've prepared our next course of action, we'll present it to you all for input." 

Edelgard spoke. 

"I think that it would best if the Professor joined us. His practical knowledge would be appreciated." 

Hubert nodded slowly, and put his arm over his chest as he did in submission. 

"Of course, your majesty. We will catch the Professor up on the current state of the war, then he can offer us his thoughts."

Hubert pumped his fist in a show of apparent newfound confidence. His eyes looked positively devilish.

"This war has gone slowly for years now, without much progress. With him, I am sure we can begin it in earnest. The immaculate one herself dare not oppose our Lady's will!" 

Edelgard looked back at Byleth now, sweetly. 

"Oh, Professor...I almost forgot. I am sure you will find your old room to your liking once you are ready to retire for the evening. Do slumber well. We would not want you to be sleepy for tomorrow." 

What was she on about? It was almost as if she was trying to tell him something...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Ughhh. That meeting lasted for ages! Those two, they never know how to call it quits for the night? Do they not know how to relax?"

Sothis's voice was the only sound in the Monastery except for the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking. She groaned in annoyance.

With both Manuela and Hanneman gone, he was just about the only being alive on the upper floor of the Monastery besides a rat or two. He was amazed that Edelgard had not found a way to exterminate them all yet. 

The hall was dark, with ne're a torch to be seen. There was only one lit in the staff's hall, a torch over his chambers. 

Byleth tugged on the copper keychain he kept between his hip and the Sword of the Creator's sheath. 

"What do you think she left for you in your room?" 

Edelgard had seemed to let on that something was waiting for him inside. She acted so odd about it, she refused to say anything when he asked her.  
Byleth clicked the key into the brushed bronze door hole. 

"You think she left something?" 

"Yes I do. Why else would she talked like that *imitating Edelgard* 'Oh, and Professor...I am sure you will find your old room to your liking' why, it's so suggestive!" 

Byleth wasn't so sure what Sothis was on about. He thought Edelgard just meant that the room was cleaned. He was impressed enough by that. She really always believed he would wind up returning. 

She spoke with scantily-clad words now.

"Maybe SHE's waiting for you in there on your bed, as a welcome-home present!"

The Professor's hands broke out in little goosebumps.

"Sothis!"

She was incredulous.

"What? I know you fancy her. You'd love if she was in that room, wearing those old red tights that hugged her cute, superb thick-."

"Sothis please! Mercy! Show her respect!"

She moaned.

"You're no fun. Always the gentleman."

He pressed his hand against the door, pushing on it.

The door flung open with a gentle push. 

It was a positive finding that Edelgard had thought to have the candles lit before he came, so he could find his keys after he dropped them. They clinked against the floor stones, until they rested on the edge of the purple carpet with gold-colored floral patterns.

Sothis was in shock as well. 

"Oh my. She really did have a surprise in store for you..." 

The room was in the same quality he had left it. Actually, it was cleaner. He had always left the dust behind the desk, and on top of the chandelier. There was none in those places, from what he could see. The window, looking out towards the Airmid, down the centrally located Oghma mountains. There was no way she had only just had a Servant do this...she was with him the whole time in the Chapel sideroom. She had to have been maintaining it in this condition...but for how long? The whole time he was gone?

The once humble residence was well-decorated now. Fine rugs, linens, and brassware cluttered the space. Byleth felt like he was in the Palace again, during Edelgard's coronation. 

He looked through the closet to see if his clothing was still in decent shape. He was a simple dresser, he only kept a single set of armor, though he had a few undershirts. 

The undershirts were still there, but there were several outfits...they looked... 

"Byleth! That suit is made of silk! That other outfit...it's pleated leather! This must have cost a fortune!" 

Byleth had never owned so much. 

"I think I should return all of this, it wouldn't be right to keep..." 

Jeralt's words echoed in his head. It was okay to accept a gift on your birthday, but don't take advantage of anyone- wealthy or not. 

"Hold on a moment. There is a note attached to the suit. Pick it up, I wish to hear you read it to me." 

Byleth saw the note, attached by a pin to the black silk suits collar. 

He unpinned it, holding it up towards the light. 

"Please, accept these outfits as befitting of your critical station in the Empire. You will be needing these for future ceremonies, stately dinners and such. I'd appreciate your company at them, my dear Professor. - your Edelgard." 

Why had she kept gifts for him without knowing if he'd return? To show him how much she missed him...was she planning out what the two of them would do if he ever returned? She must have, to prepare all of this. Edelgard...wanted his companionship. He had somehow managed to coaxed his way into the life of the Emperor, and a guarded one at that. Edelgard didn't easily trust. She hadn't revealed, even to him, the depths of her plans until the last possible moment, in the Mausoleum.

Sothis spoke, a little more toned-down now.  
"It appears she wants you to keep these for some sort of business? These nobles, they always have such extravagant festivities. I suppose even she can't avoid them totally." 

Byleth was fairly confident that Edelgard hated meetings with the nobility. Most of them were so fake. If she wanted him with her, and he should wear these outfits...should he keep them? 

Sothis was impatient with his contemplation. 

"Must you be so slow with every decision! Decide in the morning. Now come on! I think I saw something on the bed." 

There on the bed, on top of what appeared to be a brand-new mattress, was a picture frame. 

He recognized fairly quickly two of the three figures in it. One was him, dressed in his usual garb. Next to him, off to his left, was Jeralt. Jeralt's chest was puffed out, giving him the appearance of a barrel-chest ripping with muscle.

He sat down gingerly on the bed. 

Byleth put a finger to his fathers face, trying to feel his skin. Trying to remember what he felt like. Jeralt and Byleth embraced each other in a hug rarely. Frankly, Byleth had held Edelgard in his arms in the past hour more than Jeralt in five years. That just was not how their relationship was. They were not very touchy. 

"He loved you, that is plain. Do you know who the woman is? I feel as though I knew her once..." 

Byleth looked at her. 

She had his green hair...of his natural seaweed-dark shade, before he escaped the void Solon stuck him in. 

He did not recognize her face however. 

Byleth looked down at another note, attached to the bottom of the portraits frame. 

"I did some research. I found several Nun's who knew your mother. They were...uncooperative at first. But I managed to coax them into helping. Don't worry! I didn't let Hubert hurt any of them! It took ages, a few trips to the Abyss, and plenty of gold...but I managed to deliver an accurate enough description of your Mother to the Imperial Portrait Artist. I know you never really knew your mother, and your father was important to you. So, I hope this is a prized treasure for you for many years. Her name was Sitri. Your first family portrait, Byleth. I hope it isn't the last your future holds for you- Edelgard" 

"Oh, my Byleth! She's gorgeous!" 

Byleth held the portrait in front of his face for a nice long moment. 

Then, he brought it close to his chest, holding it. 

This was the best gift he had ever received. After 24 years of age, twenty-four years, Jeralt could never give him even his Mother's name. Edelgard...she had not only somehow found out his mother's name, but...her face? 

She was obviously a much younger looking woman than her Father, even with Jeralt's youthful appearance. His mother had passed young, looking barely older than he did now But it was her! 

This gift, he was keeping. 

He fell asleep with it in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOC:
> 
> This work, if it wasn't evident, is going to focus on development of the relationship between Edelgard and Byleth (Thomas). However, throughout Part II of the game and the Post-Game, other relationships will develop. Edelgard and Byleth's relationship is going to be a slooooow romance, so don't expect one or the other jumping in each other's bed within five chapters. Things will get more heated when I get to post-game chapters.
> 
> This is my first post on AO3, so I'm excited to dive right into writing chapters. I'm planning on releasing a chapter every couple of weeks.


	2. True Friends

Byleth Eisner held up his steel broadsword towards the wispy clouds that hung over the dreary and deep dark night sky. A few red-scaled wyverns, migrating south in the late fall, were the only drops of color in a paint bucket of black. 

More technically, it was a sword he had fetched off of a dead-guy, after his last one ripped off at the hilt. So it was a dead-man's sword. 

Jeralt was at his back, holding up his own sword. His was cleaner, so it glinted in the crescent moonlight. 

Sagging pines, that bent low over the northern foothills of the Oghma Mountains, and willows that staked claim to what land they could among the crags and many hills of the terrain whistled from the cool night air. 

Two bandits stood in front of him, his Dad faced another. 

Their identities weren't important to Byleth. What mattered is that this battle had gone on since noon, and was down to the marrow. Jeralt had ordered most of his company to stay behind, back at Camp. Byleth didn't think that was a wrong course of action, it just meant they were left to clean up the stragglers after unexpected mages took out most of the other Mercenaries. The men knew they signed up for death when they joined the company. An untimely death or your money back. 

The bandit to his right, a short and stocky one, whose face was something close to what Byleth imagined the half-breed between a pig and a turtle, screamed at him. 

"I'll rip your face clean off! Ashen Demon or not!" 

Byleth was used to threats. Bandits never seemed able to back them up with force. 

The man ran at him, roaring, his silver dagger raised up over his black hood. 

Byleth's sword lurched into his stomach about when the dagger when flying behind the man. 

As the man yelped for mercy, mercy way-past the point of being possible to grant, Byleth forced the blade in further, until he heard ribs crack. 

Blood spurted out, thick, gelatinous drops landing on his face. 

Byleth took two fingers to his shaven cheek, wiped off the blood, and cleaned it up onto his leg. 

Jeralt had already dispatched with his one bandit, and looked to his son. 

The Mercenary Captain looked at him with friendly condescension. His face was scrunched up slightly, one brow raised and the other lower. But at the same time, he didn't belch in revolsion, instead leaning back to just get a better look at Byleth's pantleg. 

"Dude, I just cleaned that set of briefs for you. Next laundry duty is on you." 

Byleth didn't see the issue, these pants didn't stain. 

He pulled the sword out of the body, the man's chest-cavity collapsing. Bile dumped out onto the field of battle from his guts, moistening their feet with the sweet smell of piss. 

His eyes, the color of a gall-laden ocean, rested on the woman standing in front of her. 

This bandit also wore a black hood, which covered her orange tomato, curly hair. 

She held up a dagger, yet she didn't immediately charge him. 

It would be her final mistake, not to assault him while he was dispatching her comrade. No honor among thieves, he supposed. 

Byleth raised his blade to her, and readied it. He then shoved his left-leg backward, and then forced his right forward, letting his calve muscles lunge him forward. 

A lead-weight came down on his shoulder, pulling him back down to the bile-moistened soil. 

"Not this one kiddo." 

Jeralt stepped up towards Byleth, trying to push his sword arm down. 

Byleth didn't let him, resisting. 

"Why did you stop me? I had this one handled." 

Jeralt ignored him for the moment, turning towards the woman. 

"Sorry about that Olivia. He didn't know." 

Byleth looked up at his father with a puzzled face. He pushed his shoulders up, and waved his hands in dumb-founded amazement. 

"What was that for, seriously?" 

Jeralt gripped his elbow, trying to keep Byleth from flinging his sword haphazardly. 

"Hey careful with that thing. I'll explain." 

Byleth breathed, dropping his shoulders back down. He knew to be more careful with a sword than that, it was flinging all around. he could have hit Jeralt. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay kid. Now, I know this is shocking to you, so I understand. But Olivia is an old friend." 

Byleth was again amazed, but he figured Jeralt had his reasons. 

"She tried to murder us." 

Olivia's back leaned towards him, and she flipped her hood up. 

"No I didn't! If you paid closer attention, I hung back a bit. That's how I survived this long! Is this your kid Jeralt?" 

"He is. I'll parent him. Byleth, Olivia and I worked together, in an old Knight's mercenary company. We both left to found our own bands." 

"But now she is a thief." 

"Maybe so, but her quarrel is with the Law, not us. She protected my ass on numerous occasions while we worked together. You would've been orphaned as an infant if it wasn't for her." 

Byleth nodded. 

"Okay, so she matters to you. So we're just letting her go. What about this quest we were assigned." 

Jeralt flew his arm up, and shook his head, eyes closed in. 

"Just forget the Quest. I'll pay the widows of the fallen out of my own pockets." 

"Really? You seem more annoyed with me, than with her." 

"I'm not angry at you, or her. It's just...I wish you'd get the lesson." 

"What lesson? Don't kill your friends?" 

Jeralt scratched his head, blonde hair and a light dusting of loose skin falling out. 

"Sort of. But that's not the point." 

Byleth put a leg forward, and rested his chin on a podium of ivory, with a little peachfuzz hair winding around it. 

"The point?" 

Jeralt responded curtly. 

"The point is, you don't know which of your enemies, are really your allies." 

"That might be the most brilliant thing you've ever told me, or perhaps the daftest." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A single, loud thunk landed on Byleth's door. 

He rolled up in his blankets like he was in a cocoon, while stretching his arms out. 

He scratched his chest with one hair, rubbing against his ivy colored body hair. Byleth was not an overly hairy person, only a dusting of hair congregated around the crevice between his pectoral muscles. They stood up on ends as he sat up in bed, reflexively flexing. 

Whoever was at his door knocked again, with another, single thud. 

"I'll be right out. Let me put on a shirt." 

Byleth tripped over himself as the blanket he had cocooned himself into for warmth turned against him. 

He landed on his left ear, causing him to wince. 

Byleth rubbed his ear as he crouched on one knee, trying to relieve the pain. 

The person knocked again. 

"I'm almost there! Who is there?" 

"It is I. Jeritza. Could you hurry up, I am growing...impatient." 

The crease-lines on Byleth's forehead formed a visible 'v' shape across his head as he crouched this, bewildered. When Jeritza talked to him, he sounded like he was in constant pain from something or other. He also sounded impatient. It was best not to keep him. 

Byleth rushed to his closet, strapped his armor-plate on, and hurriedly shoved his feet in his boots. 

"Why are you rushing for that man? Does he frighten you?" Sothis was puzzled, as Byleth wasn't scared of anyone or anything, even on occasions when he really should be. 

"No, I'm not Sothis. I'd just like to leave a good impression on him." 

"Making friends?" 

He thought about it as he sheathed the Sword of the Creator to his belt. 

Was he, or was he just trying to avoid making an enemy? His friends were the Black Eagles, he had no others to speak of. There were some from the Academy who cared about, the other students. He remembered actually accepting an ice-cream eating competition to Raphael...he also remembered Caspar holding his head over a toilet-bowl after said competition as chunks of peach sorbet dislodged from his stomach. 

But he supposed, when he chose to follow Edelgard, those friends couldn't be friends any longer. He wished it could be different, but it couldn't. 

Byleth looked in the mirror that hung over his bed for a moment, parting his hair off to the side with his fingers. 

If Edelgard really wanted him to attend banquets with her, he'd have to maintain higher grooming standards than those of a Mercenary. Perhaps he could purchase a comb? 

Byleth finally answered the door. 

Jeritza stood, stone-faced in front of him. 

"Hello." 

Jeritza was a tall man. He might be 6'3, kept his light-blonde hair in a pony-tail, and stared at him with piercing, disinterested grey eyes. He had a steel pauldron on his left shoulder, opposite his sword arm, and kept on a white tunic, complete with a red cloak for his warmth. Jeritza's clothes were clean, and pressed, but they were the same clothes he always wore. The man maintained his appearance, but he didn't care about fashion evidently. It was weird. Byleth and Jeritza rarely talked when they were both Professor's, but Byleth could not recall him dressing in anything but this outfit. Well, he supposed that he had the armor of the "Death Knight" 

"Good morning. I didn't expect you'd want to see me." 

Jeritza audibly groaned as he breathed, seemingly, as usual, annoyed. 

"I don't. I am only here, at request of her. She wants your presence." 

"Edelgard?" 

Jeritza nodded. 

"Yes. She is waiting for you in the Chapel...please hurry, I am feeling impatient." 

"I can tell. Is something the matter...are you feeling unwell?" 

He groaned again. 

"Do not feign concern for me. I am no more unwell than usual, so no. I simply am forced to share this vessel with...the Death Knight." 

"You're not one and the same?" 

Byleth reached into his pocket, pulling out an over-ripe banana he had snatched from the Kitchen the other night. Byleth skipped breakfast often, so that he could focus on sharpening his blade, and maintaining his armor. He appeared to have slept in this morning. 

He rolled down the peel, and took a bite. A lot of the banana was mushy, with brown, sugary globs. An over-ripe banana was a great banana, as far as he was concerned. 

"No. I am not one with him. We...share this body, as I said. But we are different. I am Jeritza...he is the Death Knight." 

Byleth had moved back into his room, while nodding to Jeritza. He had to find something important under his bed. Was it still here? 

Byleth moved his hand around aimlessly, trying to hit something solid. 

His arm grazed against something hard, and wooden. That was the ticket. 

"What are you doing in there? I said I am growing impatient." 

Byleth pulled the chest out from under the bed, tugging on its smooth brass handle. 

"I know, just give me five seconds." 

Jeritza grunted. 

"Two." 

This was where he kept a collection of items he found around the Monastery, or purchased at the market. Some of it was junk, but a few items might make decent gifts. A lot of it looked to be in rough shape, and dusty, considering it had spent five years under his bed. But he knew there had to be something in here for Edelgard she would like. 

He...ehem...had given Edelgard a lot of gifts... 

Something about her reaction to a carnation, or finding a lost item of hers, it made him want to keep surprising her. 

He dug around inside, reaching for something, anything that might do. He had to show her thanks, especially if he was going to keep those clothes. 

He pulled out a short, stuffed Wyvern plush. The thing had golden scales, that, while soft, reflected off of the morning rays bouncing around his room. He brushed it down, trying to get rid of any dust. This would do. Edelgard liked plushie's. At least, she used to, when they were younger. Did that change? Maybe it would be odd, giving a grown woman one? No, Edelgard would like it, she would like it if for no other reason than the nostalgia of it.

He stuffed it back into his pocket, and followed Jeritza out of the room. 

As they walked, he chewed on the banana, his off-white front teeth clipping chunks off as they went. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth threw the banana peel into a trash-bin at the entrance to the Chapel. 

Edelgard was seated at the back of the Chapel, the large windows at the back-end providing plentiful light in the early morning. She sat at a ebony-wood throne, with a soft red backrest to it. Gold, inladen in the wood, supported the feet. 

The Empire must have installed it so the Chapel could serve as a makeshift throne room of sorts. That Edelgard was using it for such secular purposes would have angered Rhea to no end. 

Byleth had been so interested in hearing his students talk about how their lives had been, he didn't notice the rooms new decoration. 

Banners of Adrestia, with the double-headed eagle of the Hresvelg's hung on the walls. In the far backside, along the full-wall length window, off to each side, was a stone statue, each depicting Emperor Wilhelm I, the first of Edelgard's blood line. 

Two Imperial-Guards, devoted to the protection of Edelgard, stood beside them. A maid, under the left colonnade, dunk her mop into a bucket of water, cleaning the floors. 

Edelgard sat up as she spotted them, her face turning bright at their sight. 

"Oh! Professor! You've located him Jeritza." 

The sullen man stood off to Byleth's side, letting him stand before Edelgard. 

"Yes. Are we finished? I wish to be preparing for the upcoming battle at the Bridge of Myrrdin." 

According to Edelgard and Hubert, the bridge was the only major crossing into alliance territory, and was thus a crucial first strike in their campaign against it. 

She motioned with her outstretched hand towards the door. 

"You are dismissed Jeritza. Go relax." 

He groaned yet again. 

"I cannot relax. You know that. This demon inside me...he ruins that." 

Jeritza turned on his heels, and walked out the door without another word, leaving the two of them to contemplate his actions. 

"What is his problem Edelgard?" 

"He...well...Jeritza has had a rough life, one worse than most, myself included. I think it's the Death Knight. He wants to kill you." 

"What's stopping him?" 

Her eyes danced around the Chapel while debating what she should say. 

"I am. I ordered him, as the Flame Emperor, to keep his hands off of you." 

"Oh? You did. That seems logical I guess, since we have a war to win and all." 

She sighed, seemingly disappointed with that answer. 

"Right. It's because of the war...just the war." 

She straightened out, looking at him at full attention now. 

"So professor, did you sleep well?" 

"Edelgard, I know that's not what you're interested in. I found your gifts." 

She coughed, putting her arm over her mouth for a moment. 

"Oh yes, right. Were they to your liking?" 

Byleth spoke calmly. 

"That portrait was the greatest gift I've ever received from anyone." 

In years of knowing this man, Edelgard had never seen him quite so pleased. He remained composed, but did she catch a small smile on his face, that disappeared almost as quickly as it showed up?

"My teacher, I've never seen you so expressive. It pleases me to see you like this. I feared that you wouldn't like it.” 

“How wouldn’t I have liked it? It was from you, was it not?” 

She visibly blushed, her face breaking out in a sea of pink. 

"Professor, I think that..." 

He spoke. 

"Wait. I have something for you." 

He reached into his pocket, feeling around for the wyvern. 

"A gift? For me Professor?" 

"It's not much just a little...damn." 

He pulled it out, the once illustrious gold wyvern now covered in a smattering of banana yellow. 

"I forgot I had my second banana in there...sorry Edelgard. It was a wyvern." 

She took it from his hands, anyways, inspecting it closely. 

"Oh, I just love it Professor. It has a story behind it now. It's kind of funny in a way, right?" 

She tried to repress a laugh, but broke out into a fit. 

"Edelgard, are you...laughing?" 

"Yes, I am. I just am...well, I guess I missed your company. This is just like you! You try so hard to impress but you just...you have this happen to you." 

"Edelgard, are you poking fun at my luck?"

"Are you that slow? Would you like me to give you a moment to process it?"

She relaxed, letting out her excess excitement. 

"Sorry, I just found this rather amusing. I was only kidding with you. I'll be sure to wash it. Thank you Professor, it was very kind of you to think of me." 

Edelgard passed the wyvern off to the maid, who tried her best not to get banana all over her hands as she took it to the laundry room. 

"We really should be getting to work. Professor, as you know from our war-table with Hubert the other day, we'll be launching an assault on the Alliance." 

"What of it?" 

"I'm sure that you care, but could you promise me something? Please, can you keep us all safe?" 

"Huh? You mean Bernadetta, Linhardt..." 

"I mean all of us. We've survived this long, but I fear that one of us may suffer some horrific fate. This will be the first major battle of the war in years." 

"Would you like to hold off, and forget about the war? If you are worried, as you say." 

"No. I do not intend to falter, neither should any of you if you can keep pace with me." 

"Then why are you asking?" 

"While I am committed to seeing this war through, I have to live with the consequences if one of you should die. I remain committed, but I suppose that...I don't want to lose anyone if I can help it? I'd rather have you all on my side, through the length of this war against Rhea." 

Edelgard turned her head down, and rubbed her face. 

"I can't...handle losing another, Professor. Not since my Father." 

"This matters a lot to you, doesn't it?" 

"You matter a lot to me." 

Byleth didn't want to upset her. It was obvious Edelgard cared about this. 

"Edelgard, I promise to keep all of you safe. Including you." 

"Those are sweet words you offer. Your more honorable than most Nobles. But they're unneeded, I am prepared to die." 

"You might be willing to just throw your life away, but I'm not." 

She seemed especially pleased by his answer. She let her lips part into a smile. 

"I appreciate that. Now please, go and prepare for the battle! I'll be with you in just a moment." 

As Byleth stepped out of the room, heading for the stairs down, Edelgard looked intently at him. 

In her life, she had many men swear an oath to protect her as a child. They all failed. 

She had trained so much, and forged herself into a woman that didn't need protection, because she didn't have that kind of trust. 

The Axe on her back, which had touched blood from hundreds of enemies, proved her capabilities.

Her Professor, she hoped was different. Although she didn't need his promises, she considered it a compliment that such a good man would want to keep her safe. 


	3. The Great Bridge

Sothis had been biting his head-off for the last half an hour. 

"Are you a fool? I cannot believe you promised such a thing to her? 'Keep her safe'? Really? How irrational of you!" 

Byleth was sitting atop a bay horse, one that came from the stables of Ferdinand. Most of the horses they rode on their march towards the bridge were. She was a well-cared for, but slim horse. The sort of beast meant for a chase. Her hooves rode rough-shod over a uneven cobble road, cut right through fields of long prairie grass and white wildflowers. 

Squirrels played under the occasional oak tree stuck in the middle of the grasses, unaware of the war the humans were waging. They were blissfully unaware. 

"Byleth, how do you intend to keep her safe, let alone all of them? There is only one of you!" 

He spoke to her in his mind, careful not to let the men marching alongside him hear. He already appeared nuts to people. 

"I figured that I could rely on your 'divine pulse' is that not the case?" 

"Byleth. If she's fated to die, there is nothing either of us can change about it. Do you not recall what happened with your Father?" 

When Kronya stabbed Jeralt in the back, he had tried desperately to use divine pulse in order to save him. Yet it proved fruitless. His Father was destined for death in that moment, no matter what he wanted. 

"Painfully." 

"Byleth, I know you want to protect them all. But all of them? Do you know how unrealistic that is? You'll just put yourself through agony feeling like a failure if you don't manage the impossible!" 

He knew that Sothis was just looking out for his own happiness, but it didn't feel right not promising Edelgard he'd keep them safe. He was trying that as long as he knew them. Once, on a particular occasion, Caspar had to go screaming and sending half of a dungeon's worth of enemies headed right towards him. Another, when Dorothea went running off alone, on their mission to save Flayn from the Death Knight, and she ended up getting her head sliced off in a trap. That one was particularly gruesome to watch in replay enough times until he could save her. 

He looked ahead, to where she rode. 

Edelgard rode a towering, strong steed, which was a shade of powerful obsidian. Her horse was decked in as much armor as she was, he was a true war horse. Her own was from the Hresvelg's own stables, thoroughbred from a long-line of excellent war horses. 

Hubert rode off to her left, on a lither, but similarly black horse. Ferdinand was to her right, on a white one that nearly matched her own in stature, but maybe half a foot shorter. 

He had to be able to keep his promise to her. He knew she wouldn't ask if it didn't matter to her. 

Caspar, who was riding next to him on a steely, mountainous horse, with white splotches on his backside, turned his face towards him. The horse was a foot shorter than Byleth's, so he had to look up. 

"Professor, do you think you could judge my battle cry for me? I've been thinking of what sort of shout I want to yell on the return of our Professor. Really want to freak out the enemy." 

Byleth figured he'd indulge Caspar. With Caspar, there never was a dull moment. 

"Alright. Show me what you've got." 

Caspar hacked up a lung, trying to ready himself. 

"Here goes." 

Half of the army turned towards the source of the howl. 

"Hyaaa! You can't protect yourself from Caspar the mighty and the Professor! He'll rip your head off as I tear out your heart!!" 

Byleth and about a quarter of the men clapped, sincerely, in a booming applause that caused even the squirrels to quiet their chatter. 

Hubert, still atop his steed, looked back. 

"Bergliez! Would you quit that racket! You'll frighten the horses, and alert the enemy as to our position!" 

Edelgard pushed her arm up to the rising sun, cupping the light in her palm as she took the chance to speak. 

"Come on, I like it Hubert." 

Caspar scratched the back of his neck, bending his head down. 

"Gee..thanks Edelgard. Appreciate it." 

"Ahead is the Great Bridge of Myrrdin. We will need that spirit Caspar!" 

Indeed, the Bridge was directly ahead. It was only a short trip from the Monastery, but Byleth could already make it out. 

The Bridge was of an ancient, rock construction. Boulders had been rolled down from the mountains for its base, smaller rocks soldered together with mortar and wooden supports beneath the bridge. 

Moss strangled the bottom most boulders, that were perpetually soaked in the waters of the Airmid. 

An arrow, headed straight for Edelgard flew through the air from the bridge. She pulled on her horses reins, the horse whinnying as it pushed towards Ferdinand's. 

Dead ahead was Claude von Reigan. He stood there, in a tan gambeson, with a yellow cape. His thick, wind-shaken black hair cast as an opposite to Edelgards white hair. The two of them were different in so many ways. She was serious, determined, and candid. Claude was...well, that was the thing. Claude was often compared to a tactician, or a spy. He calculated. Yet Byleth admired him nonetheless. 

"Hey Edelgard! Sorry about that one. Wasn't actually aiming for you. I wanted the Professor!" 

"Don't think I'll spare you Claude. If you get in my way, you're finished!" 

He laughed. 

"Always so serious. Same old Edelgard. Don't worry. I'm not staying. I'll leave this one in my comrades capable hands. I have business to take care of." 

Edelgard didn't like that. Claude? Leave? When Claude retreated, it was usually because he had a trick up his sleeve. 

Byleth clapped his horse's flank, urging her towards the front. 

He took the sword of the creator out as Edelgard retrieved Aymer from its sheath, and Ferdinand grappled the spear of Assal. 

The three weapons brilliant lights, emanating power, converged as Caspar, Bernadetta, and the others readied their own weapons. 

Dorothea cast the first shot, brilliant fire magic at the feet of the enemies frontline. 

"I may not have a crest like the rest of you, but I know from Edie that doesn't matter!" 

Edelgard cast her out towards the bridge now. 

"Onward!" 

Hubert screamed for her. 

"Charge!!" 

As he yelled, the whole army of Adrestia march, several battalions of men. The Black Eagle Strike Force was among them. Caspar ran alongside the men, wanting to stay in the thick of things. Bernadetta kept back on her horse, a bow in her shaky hands and Dorothea to her left, ready with a protective aura of magic. 

Ferdinand and Edelgard were charging headlong, Hubert riding just behind them, readying sinister magic. Petra had already jumped down off of her horse like Linhardt, sneaking off into the tallest grass. Linhardt meanwhile, kept at the rare, yawning. He seemed to be keeping close enough attention to ensure he could heal anyone in need, but he didn't otherwise move much. Jeritza, as the Death Knight, rode in front, but away from the others. 

The Black Eagles were back. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sweat coated the Sword of the Creator, gathering around the base where Byleth's hands met the hilt of his sword. 

Most of the ordinary soldiers had either broken off into smaller skirmishes, or were dead by now. 

Hubert and Dorothea were engaged with Ignatz and Hilda, Petra moving about in the grass, taking down stragglers. Jeritza was mowing down a herd of soldiers, while Edelgard was currently standing midway down the steep slope down to the river, fighting off several men herself. 

The sun was high in the sky now, causing him to need to squint, so he could see who was in front of him. 

Caspar was to his left, screaming for another onslaught, while Ferdinand, to his right made a swipe at Lysithea. 

Lysithea. She had a lot in common with Edelgard. She had two crests like Edelgard, borne out from cruel experiments she had to endure herself. Although she denied it, she appeared to be the youngest former student. Was she even an adult yet? 

Ferdinand swiped at her, extending his arm out. The tendons in his arm bulged, trying to reach out as far as possible. 

Lysithea summoned a wall of dark magic, using the force to push herself back as the spear of Assal pierced her shield-wall. 

"Don't toy with me! I can stop you all if I have to. You too Professor!" 

Killing Lysithea was not high on his list of goals in life. 

Byleth engaged in his breathing exercise. He breathed deeply in, then let it all out. 

He struck with a fury, the Sword of the Creator reaching Lysithea. He hit her with the broadside of the sword, casting her off to the side. 

Lysithea stumbled as she lost her balance. 

As she did, Caspar made a beeline for her. 

Lysithea quickly shot a beam of dark magic at him, the projectile hitting him in the shoulder. 

He stammered. 

"Arr-gh! Agh! Linhardt!" 

Linhardt looked, bewildered. 

"Huh? Oh. You're hurt." 

The twig of a noble cast a spell with holy words, focusing on Caspar. 

Soothing magic engulfed the red-copper armor wearing man, sparkling and glowing around the sight of the wound. 

It closed almost as fast as it appeared. 

Linhardt spoke. 

"See me back at the Monastery, I only stopped it from bleeding. I should check that it didn't strike any organs. 

Caspar howled, lifting his axe up. 

"Wooooooooooo! I could...agh..." 

He flipped it back down almost as quick as he brought his axe up. 

"Nah Linhardt...I'm...rearing to Go...urgh." 

He must have some sort of internal injury from that. Byleth had to stop her now. 

"It's time to end this." 

He made an uppercut, skirting around her arm. The sword made a deep gash in her side. 

Lysithea dropped to her knees. 

"Don't...urgh...think I'm done with you! I'll still beat you...P-professor." 

He knelt down next to her, his sword readied. 

Was he truly destined to take a students life? Why did it have to be Lysithea. 

Why was he hesitating, as she hang on to life. 

No. 

He screamed at the top of his lungs, a shattering cry that rocked the field of war. 

"Linhardt! Heal her!" 

Linhardt moaned. 

"Really? She'll need a hyper-healing spell, and I can't reach her with that unless we're two feet apart." 

"Then get your behind over here! Run!" 

She glared up at him. 

"What? I'm your enemy, are you an idiot Professor?" 

He shook his head. 

"Join us Lysithea. You know House Ordelia-" 

"Don't try to monologue about my own family Professor! I know...agh...that House Ordelia has always been fond of the Empire. Edelgard is such an imposing Emperor...and you're still so...kind. Do you remember that one time, when you found my doll for me? I still have it." 

As Linhardt arrived, huffing and puffing, she reached out a hand, weakly to Byleth. 

"Professor I...I always wanted you to be our Professor, to be my Professor. I loved Professor Hanneman, but he kept asking about my crests. He was incessant!" 

He laughed. 

"Hanneman always was like that. But do you accept my offer?" 

"Claude's cause is lost. H-Hail Edelgard." 

Linhardt knelt down beside her, readying his hands as she closed her eyes in agony. 

Lysithea's whole body began glowing an even more brilliant shade of yellow than Caspar's shoulder. The magic was stronger, it had to be. 

Linhardt spoke. 

"She'll...be fine. Just...end this quickly, please, so we can go to our beds? I hate my sleeping back. It isn't comfy." 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth stopped his crouching, rushing across the bridge. Caspar and Ferdinand were headed for Hubert and Dorothea, hoping to help against Ignatz and Hilda. Petra was crouched lower on her feet than usual, her hair frizzled and her eyes swollen while she had a sword around a man's throat. She slit it like a suckling pig. 

Edelgard was alone, fighting off a dozen men herself. 

She heaved Aymr, cutting through the hot air. Aymr's sharp edge met skin, tearing a gash into the closest soldier. 

He keeled over, cursing as he did so. 

"Fuck! Agh! You tyrant bitch! You-" 

He didn't get to finish his words, as her axe tore through his chest cavity. 

The soldier's head faceplanted into the dirt, dust blowing up around him. 

Edelgard pulled Aymr back out, turning towards the others. 

Byleth observed her as he moved in closer. He tried to study the movements of the Black Eagles. He wanted to be able to advise them on technique. 

Edelgard's own was nearly flawless. Aymr moved naturally with her arm, every movement of her legs to avoid the veteran soldiers sword-strikes, made them look amateurish. 

Unluckily for them, she didn't hold back anything. A soldier cursing her didn't stop her from ripping apart sinew and muscle. His comrades were no safer. She just moved on to the next one without second-guessing herself. While some of the other students, when they were younger, used to get nauseous on the battlefield from the sight of death, she never did. Edelgard acted as if all of it was just another challenge to overcome. 

It was nearly flawless. Her forms only flaw, was that she wasn't so firm on her feet. She stood off of her heels, so that she could reach out further to them. 

Byleth sped up, seeking to get to her before her adversary's noticed what he did. 

Two of the men locked their spears together and slammed the 'x' they made forward, pushing her back. 

He went faster now. 

She seemed to have her footing. Edelgard's left boot caught on a cobblestone, and she swung Aymr... 

But a third soldier, she dug her sword into Edelgard's side. 

The Emperor didn't cry, or scream. She just seemed to cringe. 

Edelgard still managed to swing Aymr again, cutting into the woman. 

They both fell to their knees, her sword stuck in Edelgard's side, now moving ever closer to her heart. Aymr left a mighty gnash in her gut, intestines spilling out onto the ground. 

Had she managed it? 

The woman, in rage, yelled out her last scream.

"Die dark one!" 

The sword finally broke into a sad girls heart, extinguishing her. 

They both fell to the ground now, their blood mixing, working around the mortar of the stones. 

Golden horns rolled unceremoniously across the cobble. 

"Sothis, wind us back." 

Byleth tried to rub the memory of seeing Edelgard in such a spiritous state, devoid of life out of his mind. 

His students were all convinced that they survived as long as they did because of his leadership. If only they knew how many times he had to save them this way. 

There was that one time, when Bernadetta finally, finally, chose to get brave once, and ran right into a trap. He woke up sometimes at night imagining her body flailing against spikes. 

He'd rewind again for any of them though if he must. 

The magic of the divine burst, exhibiting itself through a bright orange flash of light, settled around him as he felt his soul returning to the bridge, when he stood next to Linhardt. 

Byleth sprinted towards the end of the bridge, where Edelgard was swatting down guards. 

He readied the Sword of the Creator in his hand. 

He had to act quickly and strike down that soldier. 

His eyes centered on her as the two men shoved Edelgard backwards. 

He jumped, sending his body catapulting towards the band of alliance recruits. 

His outstretched sword sparked, releasing untapped energy. 

The Sword of the Creator tore down, into the womans spine. 

As his feet fell back to earth, he thrust it in deeper, and turned it, letting it crunch against her bones. 

"You will not touch her! She's one of the only lights on this forsaken continent." 

Byleth ripped the sword of the creator back, with the ferocity of a bull wyvern during mating season. 

His lungs heaved, the air around his nostrils dense. 

The watching soldiers rushed backwards, tripping over each other. 

"He's insane!" said one. 

"No! He's the freaking Ashen-." 

Edelgard took the initiative, dispatching with the last few troops before her with ease. 

They both stared down at the bodies, as they slumped over each other. 

She spoke. 

"You saved me my teacher. Thank you." 

Byleth didn't mull over her words, speaking plainly. 

"I meant my promise." 

Edelgard looked up at him. 

"True as that may be, I appreciate your loyalty to me." 

Byleth rested his eyes. 

"You didn't deserve to die yet." 

"A death for the greater good is not one in vain." 

She was so willing to sacrifice herself, as if all that ever mattered to her was her cause. Destroying the nobility, ending a world-order dominated by crests, and by Rhea. 

"Yours would be." 

Byleth sheathed his sword, watching as the enemy stragglers, led by Hilda and Ignatz, retreated, skirting around 'The Death Knight' 

"Professor, don't walk away from me." 

She went after him. 

"I will defeat the false goddess. I will save this world from those creatures, and give humanity its freedom back. My death might be necessary for that. You know that." 

He turned back towards her, stopping. 

"You think so. I want you to live." 

She held her hands together, and nodded. 

"I appreciate your devotion, but you shouldn't bind your life so tightly to my own. You shouldn't throw your life away on such a pointless cause." 

"Your life isn't pointless to me." 

She blushed, overcome with emotion. 

"Professor, I...I didn't know you felt so strongly that way." 

Byleth reached out, grabbing her shoulder. 

"Edelgard, your cause is to liberate the world. Mine? Mine is to keep you alive." 

"I won't relent just because it pleases you! I will throw myself in the fire." 

"I don't want to lock you away some dungeon Edelgard. I want the opposite for you." 

"Hm...it seems we have made our feelings clear. I will fight, and have you beside me." 

"Is that satisfactory to you?" 

She laughed. 

"You make fun of Hubert, yet you are almost as bad as him. You're so serious." 

Edelgard swallowed the lump in her throat. 

"We should be going. It's late. 

On cue, they could hear the whining, and pained breath of Linhardt as he struggled towards the pair. 

His hair, normally tied in a knot, was flayed out every-which-way now, totally soaked, and he was bent-forward, holding Lysithea. 

"She's...too...heavy. You take her." 

He practically dropped her in Edelgard's arms. 

Byleth rushed to hold her head, while Edelgard put Lysithea close to her chest. 

The young woman fluttered her eyes open for a moment. 

"I didn't think we'd wind up so close so quickly Edelgard!" 

Edelgard chuckled. 

"Oh, I'm glad you're with us Lysithea. Your death would've been a waste." 

Edelgard bellowed, letting her voice ring out to every ear that was still attached to a beating heart. 

"We won today! Not just by the Professor's strategies, but with all of us! We can win this war, as we won this day!" 

Caspar raised his axe, letting out another boisterous howl. 

"For the Empire!" 

Hubert raised his own voice. 

"Yes. For once, I am inclined to agree with my comrade Caspar here. For Lady Edelgard!" 

His dark cloak billowed in the wind, flowing behind him. 

Screw it, Byleth wanted to say something. 

He raised his own weapon up. 

"We will serve her the Immaculate One's head on a dinner plate!!" 

Some of the men yelled, hooting and hollering. A few bloody coughs came out, but strong spirits remained. 

She turned up towards him, shaking her head. 

"That was too much. Way too much." 

"Did you not appreciate the thought?" 

She smirked, trying to hide her chuckling. It wasn't appropriate for an Emperor to laugh at such crass suggestions. Even if she appreciated his unique way of thinking. 

Byleth looked around at all of them. Most of them looked tired, hunched over, but alive.

His gaze ended on Dorothea. 

She was looking at him, a pout on her face. Water was flowing down her cheek.

"Dorothea, are you crying?"

"Ig-Ignatz. It's Ignatz Professor."

Byleth moved over to her, hurrying to where she stood, in front of the long grass.

"He's here..."

He lay in the grass, his hand over his heart.

He looked like a ghost, blood seeping into the grass, his hair drooping over.

"Where is his glasses..."

Dorothea dropped down to her knees beside him, feeling around on the ground.

"I found them! Ouch. They're cracked."

She held them up by the narrow edge of the frame. The glass was shattered.

"Can we save him Professor?"

Byleth moved Ignatz's hand away, putting his own to his heart.

Ignatz was one of the more religious students. Byleth wondered what he thought of Rhea now.

Byleth felt the boy's chest, but it felt like his own. Still.

"He's already gone Dorothea."

Edelgard stood above them now, the others gathering around as well. She held Lysithea in her arms, who seemed to have gone comatose before noticing Ignatz. That was one mercy they were granted today. She shouldn't have to see her former ally in this state.

Byleth hardly knew Ignatz. He only remembered how he sung so sweetly in the chapel, praying to the Goddess. 

He put his fingers to Ignatz's sunken eyelids, pulling them down.

Dorothea sniffled.

"Rest well, old friend."

Byleth sighed, gathering the body in his arms.

He lifted him up, hoisting him in his arms.

"We should make sure to return the body to his family, if he has any."

Ferdinand, always the Noble, offered his coat.

"Here. Use my cloak to preserve the deceased's dignity. He needs it more than I do."

Dorothea looked at him.

"That was sweet of you Ferdie. For once."

"I was only doing what is right for a Noble to do."

She snorted, stuffing the snot back up her nose.

"Shut up."

She gripped his arm.

"Dorothea, what is it that you are wanting from me?"

She pulled him towards her, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I just...need a moment and you're available right now."

So they walked, the Black Eagles. Edelgard, their leader, guiding them towards home. Dorothea ruining Ferdinand's gilded finery with her emotion. Byleth, holding a students body. The first dead student, in his arms.

Theirs felt to him like a pyrrhic victory. 

He would suffer loss after loss if he had to. But did it have to be this way? 

'A death for the greater good is not a death in vain.'

He bent his head towards her.

Her crown, unsullied by the ground he saw before using Divine-intervention, shone in the setting sun. 

Was Edelgard's dream a cause worth dying for?

He turned back, facing forwards towards the Oghma Mountains and the Monastery.

Maybe.


	4. Revealed Masks

Linhardt was in the Monastery infirmary, watching over the daughter of House Ordelia.

The room was dimly lit, with only a candle on one of the three windowsills behind him, enough for him to see, not enough to disturb anyone. The moon was too high to cast more than a glimmer of light on the room.

The room was full of soldiers tonight. Tell-tale red-padded gambesons swamped the room.

He sat at the edge of Lysithea's bed, keeping himself apart from her. He didn't want to disturb her. She needed a good rest, and he didn't like to be disturbed either when he needed rest.

Linhardt yawned, putting his arm over his mouth.

Lysithea wormed her way up out of her blankets, so that she propped herself up on her pillow now.

"Shouldn't you be in the dining hall with your friends, celebrating your victory?"

"I'm not one for large crowds. Also, this room is quiet...ideal for a cat nap while I keep an eye on you."

"I'm fine you know. If I do need your help- which I won't, I could just call for you."

"Oh no, that wouldn't do. Once I'm in bed, I won't want to leave."

She moaned.

"Really? What if I'm dying?"

"But you won't be. I bandaged every injury of yours."

"Every one? You'd better not have looked anywhere you shouldn't Linhardt, or I swear, I will yank your arm off!"

Lysithea had taken a beating from their fight. Caspar, Ferdinand and the Professor weren't slouches like he was. Not that he minded, he'd let them have the glory. It spoke volumes about Lysithea's own tenacity that she survived as long as she did against them. 

"Relax. I had Dorothea handle everything below the waist. I just instructed her- from a distance. I saw nothing."

Lysithea relaxed, edging a little further down into her woolen patchwork grey blanket.

"You annoy me. You're always so, ugh! Logical."

He yawned again, stretching his arms out.

"I'm too tired to argue. Yes, you're correct that I am annoying. Far to....ahhh-aaaa logical." 

Linhardt bent down, curling up until he rested on the foot of her bed.

"Hey! Get off! We're not that close idiot!"

"Oh don't worry, I have plenty of room. Fortunately, you're rather short."

He shuttered his eyes.

The sun had long ago set. This was well past Linhardt's preferred bedtime. Ugh. He had told Edelgard and Hubert repeatedly, his one rule was that he not be subjected to adverse working conditions. They never paid attention.

"Linhardt! I am not short! I am average height for a girl my age. Get off!"

He lifted an eyelid up a sliver.

"Twelve?"

Lysithea growled, kicking him in the shoulder.

"Twenty! I am twenty years old!"

He curled up tighter into a ball.

"One more minute mom...actually, come to think of it, make it an hour."

Linhardt dropped his eye back down, and tried to get comfy for the night. He had managed to sleep under worse predicaments.

Lysithea screamed at the top of her lungs, waking up several of the injured soldiers in the beds near her.

"I'm not your Mom! Someone! Help!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth sat in the dining chair, towards the center of the dining hall of Garreg Mach.

He leaned back in the short wooden chair, his hand gripped to the table for support.

Linhardt had excused himself to nurse Lysithea, while Hubert claimed to be busy with 'our Lady's business'.

Bernadetta and Dorothea had graciously volunteered to take care of preparing some sort of celebratory meal. Edelgard had asked them "Oh please, could we have some sweets?" 

No one was opposed, so they were readying a dessert.

Jeritza had excused himself, but he turned-tail in reverse when he heard them agree to Edelgard's wishes. He kept several seats between himself and the rest of them.

It was late at night, well past the time any kitchen staff were around. So they had only one chandelier lit in the whole hall, the one right over their table. It cast a warm yellow light over them, but the rest of the dining hall was nearly pitch black. Like they were all alone, in the void, with nothing but this table and chandelier. The open-exit towards the Officers Academy rooms was lit by an wrought-iron street lamp, peppered with rust at the top from age.

Caspar and Petra were to his right. Ferdinand and Edelgard were in front of him, across from the table. Ferdinand was pestering Edelgard.

"Edelgard, why won't you arm-wrestling me? I promise, I do not intend to harm you. You need not fear for your safety."

She groaned.

"Ugh. Ferdinand, do you really need me to spell it out for you? No."

"Why must you always reject me? I understand if you're scared."

"I'm not scared. You take this one side rivalry so seriously. If I beat you, you'll go ahead and mope about it for a week."

"I ask only for a friendly little competition. I won't even ask for a wager. I will not mope, on my honor. 

"The answer is still no Ferdinand. Now quit it." 

"I promised not to be sore. Now why won't you fight me?"

"Quiet. Petra and I, we were just sharing a conversation together."

"What are you talking about? Petra can't even hear you, she is paying you no heed. She has been comforting Caspar."

Petra's chair was turned towards Caspar's, and she had his hands around hers. She was leaning in towards him, murmuring to him.

Caspar had helped Byleth bring Ignatz's corpse to the Cathedral, where the remains could rest before being transported to the family through some transaction, probably in exchange for the remains of a fallen soldier of Adrestia's, or a prisoner of war.

Caspar handled it well, until they interred Ignatz in a hastily arranged casket.

Something about seeing an old classmate like that, at the bottom of a casket shook Caspar. Byleth knew he was a passionate guy. Caspar had a pure heart, even if those pure intentions sometimes caused him to smack right into trouble.

Caspar crooked his head, and snorted emotion up his nose.

"It just was the worst Petra. I know I want to fight for Edelgard...but we've never had to kill one of our classmates until now! He wasn't old."

The daughter of Brigid offered him soft eyes that held the same shade and warmth of chai tea.

"We must all be dying eventually Caspar. Ignatz died in willingness. It is as you say- we are doing the fighting for Edelgard."

Edelgard turned back from Petra, whom Ferdinand was gesturing to.

"See, it is just as I say. She is paying you no heed. Now arm wrestle me."

"Fine Ferdinand, if it gets you to leave me be for the rest of this week."

She glared at him, with knowing eyes. She knew how he was.

"For the whole week Ferdinand."

The son of Aegir's teeth glistened, baring his full smile.

"Of course! I will not be a sore-winner and rub it in your face by beating you again this week. Professor- would you judge this contest?"

She groaned as she rolled up her sleeve, folding her dress's sleeve up under her shoulder.

"Why does he need to judge? Neither of us will cheat, or have you finally given up on your notions of nobility? Do you need to grease your palms to win against me?"

"There is no need, I can defeat you effortlessly. We need a judge, because all duels have judges. Would you not agree Professor?"

Byleth leaned in over the table, letting his chair come to a resting place.

"I'll judge if you both agree."

Edelgard sighed.

"You too Professor? Alright, fine. I don't mind him watching anyways. Let's just get this over with."

Ferdinand rolled up his own bountiful, luxurious sleeve, and gripped Edelgard's outstretched hand.

"Be ready Edelgard, on my count. In three moments, you will have to admit defeat to me."

"Just count, before I change my mind. I'm not losing to the likes of you Ferdinand!"

"Okay. On my count Edelgard...1...2...3..."

Edelgard's arm flexed, her muscles bulging, and Ferdinand's did the same.

Ferdinand's arm was thicker, more built-up from thrusting lances. But Edelgard had been training with heavy weaponry for practically a decade now. She was the Emperor, not a fragile maiden.

Ferdinand's arm slammed to the wooden surface of the table.

Byleth called it

"Edelgard wins."

Edelgard, seemingly encouraged by her victory, quipped.

"It could only ever end this way."

Ferdinand looked at his Professor in dismay.

"Professor, you cannot be serious- you said that so effortlessly. I know that she technically beat me this time, but surely you could say 'good show' or 'you both... did well' I am hurt."

Byleth didn't even blink, he just kept his arms crossed over his chest.

"You lost. She's stronger than you are."

Ferdinand scratched his head, bending forward slightly.

"You may have proven yourself stronger than myself in this small regard, but I will defeat you in our duel one day."

Edelgard groaned.

"You are incessant! I will never duel you Ferdinand."

Ferdinand pointed at her excitedly, while talking to Byleth.

"See that Professor! Admittance! She is fearful of my spear. Everyone knows fighting with a spear takes far more finesses than wielding an axe."

Byleth chucked as well, just shaking his head.

"But an axe takes more strength. She could deck you."

"I will prove you wrong Professor. Edelgard, get up, take off your crown. We are going to go mono-e-mono. No hits below the waist please, and I will avoid punching you in your face."

She groaned her loudest.

"Ferdinand! I said enough for this week! You promised."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bernadetta scoured the freezer room, for where the kitchen staff might have hidden the decent frozen foods.

Dorothea, who had been peeping in on the cake in the oven, leaned over Bernadetta. Bernadetta stood at the door-way of the freezer, while Dorothea stood just behind her on her toes.

The kitchen was well-stocked with foodstuffs, all of the foods the Black Eagles and Military could desire. The girls had no issue finding anything they wanted so far.

"What are you looking for Bernie?"

"Ice-cream! Do you see it? Am I blind?"

"No, of course not Bern. It's dark in here...hmm."

Dorothea lifted a hand up, and said the words of a spell in a forgotten language. Blue light dazzled in her palm, dancing in the air like starlight.

The spell lit up the whole ice-box now.

Bernadetta could see the peace-sorbet she wanted now, at the back of the freezer.

"Wow! That spell of yours is amazing. I wish I could practice magic like you."

"Oh this? I learned this back when I was a diva. We used it when a light would occasionally give out on stage, and needed to be replaced. It's a candle spell. Simple parlor trick really."

"Well it's really useful. You're useful Dorothea."

"Oh...well thanks Bern...I think. You're useful too."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, I saw how you shot those soldiers for me with your bow back on the bridge. You saved Hubert and me on a few occasions. He won't ever admit it- but I will."

"You're really amazing Dorothea...not that you need me to tell you that...I just...um..."

"Bern?"

She started to stammer, her face during red and sweating.

"I just...could we stop talking about this? It's really cold in here!"

Dorothea smiled, worryingly. Bernadetta concerned her. She didn't enjoy her friends being so scared all of the time, and Bernadetta was always anxious.

Dorothea blew cool air out from her lungs, a wisp of mist gathering above their heads.

"I'm sort of cold too Bern. How about a hug?"

"Um...no! No! Please don't touch me..."

Dorothea stepped back, trying to respect her boundaries.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bern. I was just offering. I just thought, it would be something to do as friends."

"Friends? Friends hug?"

Dorothea smiled, and giggled a little.

"Oh of course they do. Come on, just let me put my arms around your back. It'll warm you right up."

Dorothea slowly wrapped her arms around Bernadetta, holding her safe and sound.

"It's okay Bern, see? Isn't this nice?"

"This is nice... and you do feel warm! I'm...I'm hugging my friend! I love this."

"I'm glad to hear it Bern. Mmm...I needed a hug to today to be honest. I still can't stop thinking of my date from last night."

"What about it?"

"Oh it was a mess Bern. I don't know, the guy was handsome...rich as hell. But ever so...boring."

Bernadetta struggled to get out her words, but she wanted to say them.

"Dorothea- I...I...I hope you find the man that can give you everything you want. You deserve that."

Bernadetta let Dorothea go, and facepalmed with her free hand.

"Ugh...why did you say that! Of course she knows that! You just sounded creepy! Stupid Bernie..."

Dorothea sighed.

"No Bern. That was so kind. I wish the men I met were more like you in that way."

Bernadetta's eyes grew wide.

"Really? Me? That's...that's really nice of you to say to me."

Dorothea looked her friend over.

Bernadetta was...several orders of magnitude messed up. But she was kind. So kind. A fragile girl like her didn't deserve to ever hurt. She should be protected.

"Yes Bern. Exactly like you."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth sat slumped in his chair, listening to Ferdinand continue to try to rile up Edelgard while he tried to unwind.

She was soon relieved of her irritant, as Dorothea and Petra came out with the dessert.

Dorothea came out first, carrying a white-cake with chocolate frosting in one hand. In the other, she a plate of brownies.

"We brought dinner everyone! I know it's a little...rich for dinner, but our lovely leader, Edelgard, wanted this and you all agreed."

She placed the plates down, while Ferdinand gathered plates that had been sitting on the end of the long table, passing them out.

Bernadetta was a few steps behind her.

She carried in one hand, a pitcher of ice water, and in the other, a tub of peach sorbet.

The spoons and bowls were at the opposite ends of the table from the plates.

As she came in, Jeritza snatched the tub of ice cream out of Bernadetta's hands.

Bernadetta looked at him, gaping.

"Um...uh...Mr. Jeritza..."

He lifted up the lid, and, with the serving spoon, dumped several scoops into his bowl.

Without a breath, he inhaled the sorbet. He ate less like a man and more like a dog.

He took only one breath after slugging a whole spoonful down his gullet.

"Ooooo....Ice cream. I love Ice cream."

Bernadetta crept away towards Dorothea, who was cutting cake. She leaned in towards her friend.

"I think Mr. Death Knight really likes Ice cream."

Dorothea nodded, smiling.

"I think you're right on that one Bern."

She passed a plate to Edelgard.

But Edelgard didn't take it from Dorothea.

"I had better not. I have...urgent matters to attend to. Save me a slice for tomorrow?"

"I'll try Edie. But with the way Jeritza is gorging on that tub of ice cream I can't promise anything."

Jeritza had finished his first bowl, and was working on his second.

"I do not want cake...I want only...this delicious ice cream."

He looked back down, returning to his urgent work of consuming a whole quart of peach sorbet himself.

Dorothea turned towards Byleth now, the cake still in her hand.

He kept his eyes trained on Edelgard, who was lifting her red cloak over her head, and stepping out into the dark gardens of the Monastery.

"What about you Professor? Cake? It's still warm, and I used your favorite flavor of frosting. I even added apple sauce to keep it moist."

"I...I need to exit as well, I'm sorry Dorothea, Bernadetta."

He stood up, pushing his chair in. Edelgard? Leave cake? Something had to be amiss.

They had share many meals in this hall. He learned early on, that Edelgard never said no to a sweet.

"Oh Professor, Edelgard's already left. We made this for you, don't leave us now!"

He put a napkin in his hand, and leaning over her shoulder, slid his hand under a brownie.

"I'm taking this. I'm sorry. I need to go...grade homework."

Byleth took a bite as he went after Edelgard. Dorothea called him out.

"Grades? You didn't even assign us homework- we're not students anymore! You're not even a teacher!"

She glared one by one at the five remaining souls in the Dining hall.

"The five of you aren't leaving until all of this cake is gone, or I swear, I will show you what a real diva looks like when she's mad."

Jeritza lifted his head up from the white porcelain bowl.

"I will not be leaving...do you have more ice cream?"

Dorothea stared at him as he slid the empty quart of peach sorbet across the table to her.

"Seriously, did anyone in five years even see him eat before tonight? Once?"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth bent around the line of evergreen hedges that led out of the dining hall, up towards the classrooms.

She hadn't noticed him yet. He wanted to see where she was going.

Byleth didn't suspect Edelgard wasn't going to see Hubert. What was there to discuss at this hour? It was ten at night, it was so pitch black the moon wasn't even visible.

He observed as she stepped into their old classroom.

Byleth, quietly, tip-toed in her wake. He just wanted to know what she was up to.

If Byleth was to be honest, after the Mausoleum...Edelgard...

He didn't want to say it, let alone think it.

He knew she wasn't...like Kronya, or Solon.

He would've slit her throat in the Mausoleum that day if she was.

The thought of harming her, hit like a mallet to the stomach. But if she had anything to do with Jeralt's death, he would do it. He'd kill everyone complicit in his murder.

She wasn't one of them.

But her alter egos actions were never wholly explained to him. The Flame Emperor's. There was still so much that she kept hidden.

Byleth peered over the corner of the classrooms entrance.

She was knelt down on the ground...

Why was she pulling up a floor-board?

Edelgard lifted up from the earth below the wooden floor a chest.

He used to questione why the floor was so creeky at that spot when he paced over it during lectures. Now he knew why.

She started to pull out what looked like armor, with a helmet. But it was so pitch black, he couldn't really tell what it looked like.

Then, she stood up, and worked her hands down her breasts, to her waist. Like she was feeling herself over for something.

The shocked voice of a child-Goddess exclaimed in his ear.

"She's changing! Right there in the classroom!"

Sothis was right. Edelgard had the tie that kept her dress in place, and was slipping it off.

Byleth turned away, looking forward towards the side-wall of the main Monastery building. He didn't dare look, he didn't want to be accused of perving on Edelgard.

After some time, when she had grown inordinately quiet, he finally turned back, ready to avert his eyes in a moment.

There she stood, standing tall.

She had lit a small candle on a desk, and was in full view now.

Her body was enthroned in the death black armor of the Flame Emperor, her whole body enrobed in it except for the helmet.

Aymr was perched atop her back. Her hair, normally kept in twin neat buns, was tied into a ponytail with a length of purple ribbon.

She was looking directly at him.

"P-Professor! Why are you here! Were you following me?"

He slid into the classroom.

"I was passing through. Why are you dressed like that, are you still keeping secrets?"

"Professor? I never expected this from you, sneaking about the Monastery following me. Now you're accusing me of something?"

"I don't accuse you of anything. The facts are plain. The only reason to be wearing that armor is that you are doing something Edelgard can't do. What the Flame Emperor can."

She lowered her head in some shame.

"I..I am sorry my teacher. I should have included you. I am going on a mission."

"Edelgard? Really? You and Hubert still hide things from me? I thought you promised to include me in your plans."

She looked back up at him. Her feminine, regal face went well with the armor. But the stark contrast between those eyes he had come to trust and the armor of the Flame Emperor did not.

"In truth, I did not even tell Hubert. That is how covert this is. Why do you think I waited until this late at night, when he has his head buried in maps and battle-charts?"

Byleth stepped forward, so that he was near her now.

Byleth was taller than Edelgard, but in her armor like she was, she stood over him. She peered down at him.

"Edelgard. You can trust me with this. I am just concerned for you."

"This is a secret you may not like. I fear that you may not understand."

"Even if I don't, I'll still love you."

She bit her lip, hard. She was practically clenching her lower lip in a vice-grip.

"That...that is...more than I expected from you my beloved teacher. Fine, I'll trust you, and you alone. But if I do, you must promise to come with me."

She was going somewhere and wanted him to accompany her?

"I'm not preoccupied right now, but what about everyone else...or the war?"

"I promise we will be back in time for our next battle. There is no chance that the Kingdom or Alliance can send an army to Garreg Mach before we will return. By now, their agents are just now running to tell them of your return. Just close the door. I'll shutter the window."

"Edelgard...what kind of information are you hiding?"

"Professor. This is the type of secret only dead-men need to know. I don't even know why I'm telling you. I just sense that I can tell you."

He looked into her eyes for a moment before heading to shut the door.

What could this be?

He closed it gently.

She turned towards him from the back window of the classroom, where she was gathering the curtains.

"Lock it."

"Edelgard, it's only a secret. We're not killing someone in here....are we?"

"Professor, if this secret got out, everything would be lost."

He clicked the lock, letting it rest. What could she be holding onto?

He looked to her, standing back in front of her secret chest again.

"Spill the beans."

"Professor, what I say to you must never leave this room. These words...if they fell into the wrong hands...they would destroy our cause, and if the people continued in their chains because of that...I...I couldn't forgive even you for that."

Goddess what had she done? Had Edelgard already murdered someone? What could cost them the whole war?

"Edelgard, you have my honor."

"Right."

She stepped closer, even though they were only three feet apart.

Now they were basically on top of each other, and she whispered so low he had to lean in to hear her.

"What if I told you a secret of immense personal interest to both of us."

She took a shallow breath, before saying her next words even quieter, so near to silent, that even the ghosts of the monastery couldn't hear them.

"We're infiltrating my Uncles hideaway."

His eyes grew wide.

"Hubert will kill us."

"Hubert can never know. He'd think I'm risking the cause, but it's not that straight-forward. We need to know what they have planned.

"That's true, we can't trust them."

"Right. I somehow knew you'd get it, better than he would. Hubert would hold me hostage if I suggested this to him. He'd never let me."

"But Edelgard, why not just send a spy?"

"Why? I don't think it needs to be explained why."

He thought about it. 'Those who slither in the dark' were not common bandits, but powerful warlocks. Then, there was Hubert. Their spies might struggle to not let him in on the secret if he caught wind of what they were doing.

"No, I suppose it doesn't. But doesn't this risk everything? I thought you wanted to wait until after the war to confront them?"

She sighed, casting her head down. Edelgard had a look of exasperation on her face.

"I admit, that was originally the plan. But the threat they pose is too great. We can't just sit here like rats, scared of crossing them."

She shuddered. Edelgard hated rats, even imagining them in her mind repulsed her.

He spoke. 

"I suppose I must go with you then. Since I am sworn to guard you with my life."

"Professor...could you not? Stop."

"With what? Protecting you?"

"I really don't feel comfortable with you speaking like that."

"You don't like me swearing my life to yours?"

"Sort of. Maybe it's just...well, I don't want you to talk like you serve me. Hubert serves me, Ferdinand serves me...poorly. But I'd like our relationship to stay like it is."

"As friends?"

She jerked her head side-to-side. She wasn't satisfied by that.

"Friends is...fine. But I prefer 'equals'...'partners'. I'm unused to having one of those unfortunately."

"That would fit us well. Since we are equals in fighting."

"Exactly! Oh, I love how you went straight to combat. You didn't consider our rank-difference. So often, people are afraid to treat me like a normal human-being, because I am the Emperor."

"Do you reference Bernadetta?"

Every time Bernadetta made eye-contact with Edelgard, she started begging for mercy.

"Oh haha. Yes, Bernadetta, and others."

Faintly, they could hear a rustling outside. Someone was out there.

Edelgard murmured under her breath to him.

"Stay still."

He whispered back.

"I think I hear Caspar and Ferdinand laughing. The others probably just finished dessert. We'll let them pass."

They waited in silence until they moved out of ear-shot. Would someone wonder why the door was closed? What if one of them...

Someone knocked. 

"Hello? Is-is anyone in there?! Who shut this door? Was it a ghost?"

It was Bernadetta.

Edelgard cupped her hands around her mouth, and made ghastly noises.

"Oooooo. Bernadetttta! I'm coming for you!"

From outside, they could hear shrill screams.

"Aghhh! It is a g-g-ghost!!!"

They could hear her amble off.

Byleth and Edelgard both blew a sigh of relief. Byleth laughed, clutching his stomach.

"I can't believe I did that to poor Bernadetta. I'm going to feel awful about that for the rest of the night now."

"No, no don't. That was funny."

"You say that I'm funny, but you don't laugh."

Byleth rarely laughed. It wasn't that he didn't have any sense of humor, he usually didn't see the point.

"I suppose that Bernadetta regrets knocking. She should have stayed at the dessert table."

"Oh, did you fetch me a brownie?"

"I hadn't planned on an occult rendezvous tonight so no."

She looked up at him with full, swollen eyes. Her pupils were dilated, her purple iris's sparkling in the low candle light.

"Oh, what a shame. I love sweets."

He sighed.

Byleth slipped his left-arm out of Edelgard's death-grip, and reached into his pocket. He had wrapped the remaining half of his brownie, wrapped in a napkin.

"It's a bit squished, and has a bite out of it. Jeralt and I used to share food without a second-thought. I suppose you don't want it."

She snatched it out of his hand.

"I don't care. We're partners now, so we can share."

He observed as she took little polite bites into the brownie.

"So we're at the sharing food stage of this?"

She took a gulp, taking a break between swallowing.

"We're at the 'Professor must share all of his sweets with Edelgard' stage of this partnership. Next, we can consider swapping weapons."

She puckered her lips, wiping them with the napkin as she finished off the brownie.

"Mmmm, that was wonderful! Brownies are my favorite!"

He smirked.

"Aren't you worried, if we swap weapons, you might turn into a beast like Sylvain's brother?"

"Aren't you worried Professor, that if I turn into a demon beast, I might go after you first?"

She taunted him with a wink.

She leaned over, and picked up the chest. The chest looked ornate. It had carvings of dragons etched into its top, and gold filigree wrought around the edges. The stain was dark, almost black.

It looked very heavy, he was impressed she lifted it without too much effort.

She dropped it at his feet.

"You'll need a disguise of your own."

"Won't they know you though?"

"It doesn't matter if they see us, as long as they don't see us take anything. We'll be as secretive as possible, but don't worry about that. I just do not want them to know that you are the one with me. You know they want your crest."

"Do you think they'd try to assault me, even if you are there?"

"Well, Solon did when you fought Kronya."

She was right. They'd probably try to summon hell to banish him.

Byleth knelt down, rummaging through the chest's contents.

"This armor...it's similar to your own. But hmmm..."

He checked in the interior of the armor, for a little tag that smiths usually left to let one know the proper size.

"This is my exact size!"

Edelgard dug her fingers through the back of her hair.

"Oh...what luck, yes."

He looked back up at her.

"Edelgard, did you mean for me to catch you? Were you planning this?"

"P-Professor, hurry up and put your armor on! We need to be going. I'd like to be at a suitable campsite off of the road by midnight."

"Alright, turn around then."

"Of course."

She turned around, facing the door so that Byleth could have privacy.

He unfastened his belt, dropping it to the ground.

His pants fell below his ankles. He cast them aside.

Byleth grabbed the armored-leg pieces out of the chest.

He turned them over in his hands.

They were made of a foreign metal. It was like steel, but dark, with the touch of glass.

"Was this imported from Dagda?"

She spoke with her face still turned.

"Almyra actually. It's called mithril. Stronger and lighter than steel. We haven't figured out how they forge it yet. Some sort of alloy."

It was black, as black as Edelgard's own Flame Emperor armor. But his armor was plated, bands of mithril running horizontally around in a full-circle around the length of each piece. Bands of decorative gold wee placed every-so-often between each solid plate of mithril.

He worked them up his legs, locking them in place.

Byleth reached into the chest again for the chestpiece.

This was hefty.

The chestpiece was done in the same fashion as the legs. It had little red feathers shooting out of the shoulder pieces to match those of the Flame Emperor's. Attached, was a thick white cape that stood out from the red, gold and black armor.

He lifted up the armorpiece, trying to work it around his torso.

"Edelgard? Could you strap me in at the back? I can't reach."

She looked him over.

"It suits you. I'll have to make sure to send a tip to that Almyran blacksmith..."

Edelgard walked around him.

"Let me know if my hands are too cold. I need to reach around you to grab the leather straps..."

She felt her away across his chest, then down to his stomach, where his battle-crafted abs were. Byleth didn't really think of his body as overly attractive. It was fine he supposed, but he was strong for the work he did, which was fight. He had scratches and a scar running across the length of his eight-pack of abs.

Her black-armored gauntlets grazed against them. But she didn't make a fuss about it. He couldn't even feel her skin. 

"You're...really um...'packing' my teacher. 

"Thanks. Could you...hurry up Edelgard? Your hands...they're ehh.. chilly." 

She could sense he was uncomfortable.

"Do you want me to stop? I can if you want."

"No. I need to get suited. Just...finish soon."

Byleth didn't know why Edelgard being so close to his half-nude body made him self-conscious. He was only a year-older than her, he wasn't a real 'teacher' Rhea just gave him that job so she could get him in her clutches. Byleth realized that while contemplating the events in the Mausoleum. Rhea hadn't seen any sort of potential in him as Jeralt's son. He was just her pawn.

That was the distinction, to him anyways, between Edelgard and Rhea.

That soldier at the bridge, calling Edelgard 'the dark one' didn't know who they insulted. Edelgard sincerely cared about everyones free-will. She didn't expect him to side with her, she asked him to. But Rhea she just...demanded he kill Edelgard. She felt like he had betrayed her, when he hadn't. He owed Rhea nothing. Edelgard hadn't even wanted him to pledge an oath to her. She just wanted his companionship.

Serving Rhea made him feel like an object.

Helping Edelgard wasn't an obligation, it was...natural?

Maybe he felt uncomfortable with her like this, standing so close to him, running her hands down his body because...

He liked it?

Was it wrong of him to think that?

Edelgard squeezed his sides, making sure the chestplate was locked-in place, then stepped back from her handiwork.

"There, I think you're all set now. You really do look quite nice in it Professor."

He nodded at her words in subdued agreement. He then reached his arm down to the chest, pulling the helmet out.

It was similar to Edelgard's, like the rest of the armor. However, the red feathered crest atop the skull was shorter, only going half-way down his back whereas hers went down the full-length of hers. His also had two crests, split at the joint-piece, one following the length of his left arm, and the opposite his right.

He looked at the mask. While hers was half white, half red, his was coated in a thin gold finish.

He felt uncomfortable with it. The mask, it felt like he was hiding himself. Byleth wanted his enemies to see who was killing them.

That felt honest. 

"Edelgard, is it wrong of us, to be dressing like this?"

"No, I don't think so. It's necessary to wear this, to blend in with my Uncle's crowd."

"Don't you hate that?"

She seethed, her whole body shaking as she exhaled a deep sigh.

"I do. I hate working with my kidnappers. My tormenters. It was him and the nobles who...stole...everything from my family. But we must for Fódlan."

He reached out to her with his arm, intending to hold her shoulder.

But she swatted him down.

"No my teacher. It is best if we don't. When I am with you, I find that I let myself become too emotional."

"Edelgard?"

"Please. I can't."

She looked at him with a face that felt vulnerable. Her eyes were sorrowful, but without tears. He swore her lip might have trembled for a moment.

"Alright Edelgard. We won't dwell."

"Right. We have an errand to be onto."

She took her own helmet, which she had been keeping in the crook of her left arm.

It fell over her head.

It must have been imbued with some sort of magical-spell, because her voice immediately modulated. She gained the deep, demonic voice of the Flame Emperor.

"Put yours on. I want to know what you sound like with it on. These are enchanted to hide our identities."

Byleth let the mask fall over his face, the darkness blanketing him. Byleth normally wore a fairly light armor, so this would be an adjustment, being in full-plate.

"How do I sound?"

"Excellent! The spell worked. You sound...I hate to tell you this...kind of like Hubert."

"Hubert? I don't want to sound like Hubert."

"Oh no, you sound better than Hubert though. Like a more rugged, imposing Hubert. You sound like a Dark Prince! An ehem..Dark Prince Hubert."

They both grew silent. 

Byleth broke it.

"Let's not talk about Hubert."

"Right. You sound nothing like Hubert. You sound like someone else entirely. An entirely different, mysterious Dark Prince."

Edelgard knelt down, shoving the chest full of their ordinary armor back into the hole. She carefully aligned the loose-board into place.

"We'd better be heading out. We can take the side-gate. If we go now, we can arrive between the evening and night guards shifts. I left two rucksacks with supplies in the tower there we can gather."

Rucksacks? As in two? It was weird enough that she happened to have a suit of armor that fit him perfectly stowed away.

"So you confirm that you meant for me to spot you. You wanted me here."

He saw her eyes light up in her suit, and her voice grew more teasing.

"Oh? It took you this long to figure that out? I hope I don't need to spell out everything I want to you, my beloved teacher."

She twisted her left brow up, her smile cracking into a grin.

Edelgard unlatched the door, and stepped out.

He followed behind her, looking both ways to see if anyone was approaching. There was no one. It was probably almost midnight by now.

"Wait Edelgard? What is my name?"

"Huh?"

"I mean...you're the Flame Emperor. Who am I?"

"I hadn't thought of it."

"Could you?"

She brought her arm up to her chin piece, pondering it.

"Hmm...what about...'the Flame Keeper' I think that describes your place perfectly."

"But what station does that describe? What am I keeping?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

She started to walk away, sneaking around the corner of the building.

"Edelgard!"

"Silence Keeper. Your Emperor is leading. Now come, follow me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOC:
> 
> After some thought, I reverted the protagonists name to Byleth. I figure most people would prefer that.
> 
> I found it odd how the Crimson Flower route never deals explicitly with 'Those who slither in the dark', despite probably being the route with the most reason to, considering Edelgard's past with them, compounded with Byleth's hate for them. The people want some avunculicide. Stick around to see the adventures of the Flame Emperor and her Flame Keeper.


	5. Together At Least

Edelgard looked fixed on her Professor's body as he slept, her eyes transfixed on his bare chest. 

He had asked her if she minded him sleeping shirtless. 

Edelgard bit down on her lip. 

No, she did not mind at all. 

She tried not to stare. 

That was made slightly easier by what she was so distracted by on his chest. 

Byleth had a tear through his chest, a scar. It was so neat, a tidy cut, yet it was so jarring. That is why it was jarring she supposed. Edelgard, of all people, knew scars, and they were not supposed to look like this. 

She glanced down at her exposed left hand. She considered whether to wear her gloves with him so close, but figured she could wake up before him, and she had. 

She could not keep on looking at it. 

It was hideous. 

Edelgard had grown so numb to the scars on her hands, traces of her imprisonment, it did not bother her that she had them. She did not feel lesser because of them. But she did not want to look at them all the same. 

But the Professor's scar was different. Her own were gnarly, jagged scars, his was not that. 

Edelgard knew scars. Hers had a devious sense to them, evidence of her past. 

But this one? 

It was somehow more menacing. Its origins were more sinister. 

It was inhumane. 

He yawned, stretching his arms out. The early light of the rising sun was bleeding through the thin fabric of the tent. 

She reached for her gloves, covering her hands. She was not ready for him to see them, or anyone. 

Byleth's eyes opened slowly, those green eyes of his transformed self getting a look at her. 

"Good morning Professor. We'll head out once you're ready."

"You're staring at me, Edelgard."

"Sorry, it's your scar."

Byleth bent his head downwards to the mark on his chest. 

"This? That's a birthmark."

"Byleth, that is not a birthmark. It's a scar."

"If it is, I don't know where it's from. I've always had it."

"Could I feel it?"

"Go ahead."

He skootched closer so she could reach. Edelgard lay her white glove covered hand on his chest, feeling the mark over. She traced its length with her pointer finger. 

"Is it painful to touch?"

"I feel nothing."

She was confused. How was it possible that this would be such a gnarly scar...and he appeared to have it as a child...but he was alive, and it did not hurt? 

"Professor, have you ever thought it might have something to do with your crest?"

"If it as you say, then that would make sense, right?"

"I think so, but it could be from an accident as well. Maybe your father injured you accidentally and didn't want to say out of embarrassment?"

"Edelgard, Jeralt told me the exact number of times he dropped me on my head as a kid. He had no shame."

"Really, is that so? How many?"

"Five."

She smirked. 

"That low?"

"No more than you Princess."

She laughed lightly, offering a little chuckle. 

"I was not expecting to be laughing so early in the morning."

"Nor was I. Then again, it is not normally the case that we are in a tent together this early in the morning. You could be right about my birthmark, but there is no proof."

She nodded. He was right. Neither of them knew it was his from crest. Neither knew whether Byleth's crest was inherited or not. Perhaps his bloodline truly had the blood of King Nemesis in it? 

"All the same Professor, there are people in this world who would torture a child over crests. I have no doubt it is possible someone would've forced a crest on you."

Byleth looked back down at it. 

Was he like Edelgard? Did they both share similar pasts? He knew his childhood was nowhere near as much a struggle as hers. Sure, he was born poor. But he had Jeralt. But did they have this in common? 

Edelgard could not stop looking at it. 

If she was right, this was even more reason to hate crests. Who would cut-open a little kid...an infant? The crests possessed people to make terrible decisions. Byleth deserved better than life than that.. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth's horse, the same brown bay that had carried him into battle against the Alliance, galloped down the old Imperial road towards Edelgard's much faster steed. 

The sun was set low still, just peeking out from behind the birch forest on their left flank. The trees stood tall and straight. They had few branches below the canopy, so that plenty of bushes and brushes could form a thick carpet on the floor of the forest. It was difficult to see if anything at all lived there as a result. White summer flowers blossomed on the bushes, and songbirds fluttered around them, as hummingbirds collected nectar. 

The sky was overcast with grey clouds. It might rain later. 

There was a strong gust keeping them cool. He was thankful for it; this suit of armor was sweltering. It kept his identity anonymous, but it was not comfortable. 

She shouted out at him. She sat on the end of her tunic, so that the extravagant garb of the Flame Emperor would not flow out behind her. 

"Come on Flame Keeper! It's not even a day's journey, I promise!"

He nudged his horse onwards. 

Should he name this horse? Considering there was a war going on, that might be ill-advised. 

At the time same time, Byleth wanted to do it anyway. This horse had carried him for a while now. 

Jeralt would say he is being thick-headed, and he would just get too attached. Then again, Jeralt also worried that Byleth never knew how to form attachments and show emotion. So maybe he’d be pleased by this development?

He bent down to the horse's ear. 

"I'll name you Devil's Spirit."

Devil's spirit neighed, shaking her head vigorously. Her crest hair blew from side to side. She sped up, almost catching up to Edelgard and her horse. 

As they travelled down the road, the path was straight, so the horses could keep going without any new commands. 

He snapped open his saddlebag, bringing out a canteen, and paper-bag of jerky. 

Byleth untwisted the canteen-cap, sipping on the spring water. He had filled it at a running brook beside their camp last night. 

He then took a strip of jerky out, tearing it with his teeth. 

He took a deep breath, pausing. 

Jeralt taught him to try and enjoy the little time you had between battles. That is how he stayed sane through it all, through searing flesh from mage’s spells and spilling guts dumped by the force of his own sword. 

Travelling with Edelgard was certainly an adventure. Normally, he was swamped with the attention of his other students. Edelgard usually kept her distance, letting him focus on the others. She thought of herself as more independent, he felt. That was mostly true. She did not need his constant encouragement like Bernadetta, nor did she request training lessons like Caspar or inquire about language skills as Petra did. But some part of Byleth’s beatless heart felt that Edelgard needed him more than they did. Even if she herself did not know it. She needed her teacher. 

When Byleth travelled, he enjoyed listening to the sounds of nature. He found it calming.

He could hear the rustling of some animals playing in the woods. Probably foxes, maybe rabbits. 

He listened closer, trying to keep an ear open for them. 

No... These were too loud to be foxes, definitely not rabbits. Baby bears? 

The footsteps were getting louder and closer. 

A Wyvern? No, it could not be. There was more than one set of footsteps. What could be making that much noise? A herd of deer?

Byleth hastily shoved the canteen back into his sack after the jerky, buckling it up. 

What the hell was back there? 

He pivoted his head in time to see an arrow strike his horses back quarter. 

She stumbled on her hooves, before dropping to the ground. 

Byleth jumped off her, trying to stay out of her way. 

Edelgard took her own horse’s reins, pulling him back around. 

She spoke, in an aggravated voice. 

"Who stands in our way! Show yourself."

Byleth had his sword out now. He was bristling. They had interrupted his lunch and shot his horse. 

He looked down at the road and searched the forest. 

Where were they? 

Edelgard dropped down from her horse. 

She walked up beside him, hoisting her shield in front of her so that it kept the two of them mostly covered. 

Whoever it was, was not showing themselves. 

She spoke again. 

"If you’re such coward’s that you won’t look at us, then you’re fools! We will strike you down here and now."

Someone answered back. 

"We're not yellow-bellies! We be waitin' for the rest of us to show! We're ready now!"

They both turned towards each other. 

She spoke. 

"This must be an ambush."

"Brigands."

"Right. Steel yourself Professor. Put your back on my own. We'll get out of this."

"We will together."

She nodded in agreement. Byleth circled around her, pressing his back to her own. 

As he did, a whole horde of bandits muscled their way out of the woods, trampling the undergrowth. 

Byleth scanned through the crowd of them. There were twenty of them, give or take a few heads. There was also not an obvious leader among them. 

One of them, the voice who claimed they were not yellow bellies, spoke. 

The man was burly, with a sizeable waistline. He wore light leather armor, undyed, with bare-metal joint-pieces holding it all together. It was the kind of armor mercenaries might wear. Cheap, and unimpressive, but effective. He had a thin trail of a neckbeard, a thin face, and snowy blue eyes that went well with his plentiful mound of curly blonde hair.

"We be the Wanderin Boys of this here forest. This is our post. Every traveler here has to pay a toll."

She quipped back in a judging tone, with the mocking voice of the Flame Emperor. 

"You're common thugs. You steal from innocent people for gold."

"Nay. We steal mostly just from the Empire. You two are dying in a minute, so you might as well know. A few of the Lords of the Kingdom have an arrangement with us. They leave us be- we only go after Imperial travelers and caravans."

"So you serve the Kingdom? I suppose that King Dmitri offers you gold for ever poor person you harass?"

The man swiped his hands across the air in an 'x' shape and shook his head side-to-side 'no'. 

"Nay, you've got it wrong. We have no loyalty to any side. He don't pay us- he just leaves us alone. I suppose you could say we are all on the Emperor’s payroll though! The tyrant-bitch, she pays our tab in the pub, right gang?!"

They all howled, cackling. A few held their round bellies, full of cheap booze. 

Byleth squinted his eyes at the man. The arrogance. 

He threw his sword back behind his head, summoning the power of his crest. 

As the purple light of the crest of flames built up over his head, the sword of the creator transformed into a magical, holy link of chains. 

The men were still laughing. They thought they were hilarious. 

He swung the burning chain forward, reaching out for the bandit who had made the joke, and gathering a friend next to him. 

The men gripped at the chains, screaming. 

"Eh! Eh! No magic! What the hell sort of sword is that!" The jokester said. 

They both screamed with dread in their eyes as Byleth yanked the sword back, letting the chain dig into their sides. 

As the sword reformed into its usual shape, heaved it over his shoulder again, cutting through both brigands. 

Both men dropped down to their knees, their heads knocking against each other before falling backwards. Dead. 

He raised his hands out, taunting them. 

"Who's next! Which one of dares to assault us!"

Someone bellowed, a skinny one with red hair and tan complexion. 

"All of ya! After them! They can't stand against a swarm!"

The men formed a stampede, kicking up dust off the road. 

Edelgard swung Aymr, hatching a woman to death before shoving five backwards on their feet. 

Byleth flourished the Sword of the Creator, stabbing two and chaining another three up, lacerating them. 

They fell back, out of breath but alive. 

Edelgard held Aymr up, summoning an earth-shaking shockwave. 

Several of the bandits collapsed on the ground because of her, struggling to get up. 

She ambled towards the survivors. 

Edelgard readied her axe for another shattering blow. 

"Your deaths are inevitable!"

She swung Aymr in nearly a full circle, felling several. 

Byleth had to one-up her. 

He lunged as much as he could, stabbing one, and piercing through the armor of two others. All three collapsed. A loon ran at him, reaching out with a spear. 

They dug into his hindleg as Byleth tried to step-back. The spear ratcheting into his leg. 

He was not used to this armor. It was sturdy, but he was slow in it, and they were lucky. 

He reached his sword up around his head, bonking them in the head with it. 

The man tumbled back. 

Byleth screamed, a biting pain nipping at his nerves. 

The man tried to regain his footing, crawling on all fours as he tried to stand.

But Byleth thrust the sword through the man's downward facing neck, cracking his spinal column. 

He fell. His spinal fluids flooded the road. 

Edelgard turned around to Byleth, facing the same direction as he did. 

"That wasn't too difficult."

He pointed his sword at a lone bandit, a fat one with a wiry, fraying black beard. The man carried a club. 

He was standing a bit back, his legs quivering. 

"Please! Let me go! I am sorry. I will not ever bother anyone from the Empire again! I swear it!"

Byleth cast his sword over his head, recoiling the chain like a vengeful serpent. 

The man started running away in the opposite direction, practically tripping over himself. 

The sword of the creator's chain lunged forward, over the piles of bodies. 

It hooked onto the man's thick upper arm. Chain squeezing supple flesh. 

Byleth yanked it back, forcefully. 

He brought one leg back behind the other, steadying himself. 

The man bent backwards as his arm was torn out of its socket. 

"You're right. You will never bother the Empire again. The cockroaches soiling this land, none of them will be suffered to live. A better world is coming."

Byleth thought that sounded heroic, like something Edelgard or Ferdinand would say. But with this damn helmet on, he sounded like a sociopath. 

He supposed he was in a way. 

He yanked so hard now, that the man's sizeable body bumped across the flag stones backwards towards Byleth. 

Edelgard took her axe and slewed him when he was within reach. 

Byleth pulled his weapon back, putting it in his sheath. 

He stared at the fat man's mangled body. Out of his pocket, at the edge of the pooling blood pouring out of his severed arm, was an item of interest. 

He stepped towards him, taking large steps to avoid the bodies of his victims. 

Byleth bent down towards it. It was a wallet. 

He grounded his teeth in pain. That arrow wound was going to prove to be a literal pain in the ass. 

He screamed as he snatched it up. 

He unfolded the leather-bound wallet. 

A few gold pieces, nothing to send home. 

There was also a folded-over piece of paper. 

He jiggled the wallet, shaking out the note. 

Edelgard was behind him now. 

She offered her side to him, trying to support him. 

"My teacher! You should not be standing. You're hurt."

"Forget me. Just read this. Maybe it's important?"

She spoke with concern, in a higher pitch now. 

"You need to take better care of yourself."

"Edelgard, just read it."

She sighed, taking it out of his hand. 

She looked it over, then spoke. 

"It appears my Uncle told these bandits, that if they managed to steal any crest material, or weapons, he'd compensate them." 

"Do you worry about what he's planning?"

"I know he is planning something. But we can’t deal with him right now."

Byleth knew that her Uncle was a menace, and they were taking some risks working alongside him. But as a single force, surely Fódlan, led by Edelgard, could take him? Byleth was not one to fear his enemies. Being too scared to fight, when someone was running at you with a dagger was a fantastic way to wind up dead.

"We can defeat him together, all of us. He's doomed, no matter what crests he has."

"I like how you think. We should not forget he is a threat, however. This information is an important finding."

Byleth glossed over their enemies, their work for the day. 

Corpses, lying on top of each other, spewn about. Blood mixing with blood, guts spilling out onto other guts. A few brains and bowels here or there. 

They did not mean anything. 

But his eyes grew softer as he saw her.

His poor horse. Devil's Spirit. Now she meant something. 

She lay there, in the middle of the road, panting. She was still alive, but with that arrow through her left hindquarter, she was a carcass. A horse with an injury like that could not walk, and a horse that could not walk was dead. 

He inched over to her, hobbling. He was not much better off than she was in the walking department. 

He tried to bend down to say goodbye, and make sure she did not suffer. 

His hand went over his hip. 

"Damn it. Edelgard...grab a potion."

She bent down for him, searching in his saddlebag. 

She pulled out a bottle with a thin, lengthy neck and rounded bottom. 

He uncorked it as she passed it up to him and swallowed it. 

Magical vigor swirled around inside his belly. 

Potions did not feel...or taste like Linhardt's spells. They tasted like rotten cabbage, and rather than emanating warmth, they gave off a cool, icepack like sensation. 

Edelgard held onto his shoulder, balancing him. 

"You need time to heal, let the potion work. Come on- you can join me on my horse."

He kept looking down at her. His horse. 

She was still clinging to life. She was squirming, her legs trying to stand up, but her body was unable to support itself. 

"Edelgard, please, put my horse out of her misery. I'd do it, but I can't lift the Sword of the Creator right now."

"Of course. No creature, man or beast deserves to suffer like this."

She reached into her rucksack on her back for a dagger she kept in case they needed to skin an animal. It was really a hunting dagger, but it would do. She let go of him, letting the Professor crouch while trying to stay upright. 

It was not a debilitating pain, the freaking bandit just hit the right joint. 

She knelt beside Devil's Spirit, holding the dagger above her neck. 

Byleth did not want to close his eyes. He wanted to watch and see her pass. He wanted to make sure he did not see pain in her eyes. 

Edelgard was aiming for the right place. If she cut the nervous chord, she would not feel anything. 

She stabbed Devil's Spirit. 

The horses eyes closed, and she stopped squirming. 

Edelgard stood back up, depositing the dagger in her rucksack. 

"Sorry about her Professor. I can buy you a better horse if you want. The Hresvelg's stables are normally off limits to outsiders. But I would make an exception for you. You'd be the first in about 700 years to be gifted one of our horses."

He just shook his head. 

"I don't want a better horse. I want that horse."

"I do like that you don't care about horses."

"You just offered me one."

She helped him hoist himself up to the back of the black stallion, his hands holding onto the saddle. 

"Horses are fine. But when you are around nobles, they ask you about them all the time. They have these expensive competitions with champagne and caviar and race their horses to see who is superior. It's such a waste of resources, and horses for that matter."

Edelgard tied his rucksacks onto her own horse, looping them around the straps of the rucksacks already there so that they would stay-on. 

"You're unusual among nobles, you know, that right?"

"Ugh, don't call me a Noble."

She pulled herself up onto her saddle in front of him. 

Removing her helmet, she shook her hair which was afflicted with an acute case of 'helmet hair', patted down from wearing the helmet for several hours. 

She put it between her legs, keeping it close in case they ran into someone.

"I don't like to count myself among the nobles. Almost all of them are so...useless. Caspar's Dad is okay, a few low-ranking ones, sure. But have you ever realized they are all terrible? House Vestra, House Varley, House Hevring, and... ugh, House Aegir is the worst. None of them cares about the Empire, just their own power."

"I do not know what in the hell any of those are."

"Ugh. Professor! Those are the Black Eagles houses."

"Do you find it odd that you fired all of your friend's parents?"

"No. They realize their parents are all self-serving traitors. Ferdinand was upset at first over his Father, but he understands now I think."

"I do respect your values, but you do fit that bandits nickname for you. You know. Tyrant-bitch."

She leaned forward in her seat, Byleth's head going down with her, encouraging the horse to gallop faster. 

It was midday now. They had to ride fast if they wanted to arrive before their daylight was lost. 

"Oh Professor. Not fair, you know I cannot repeat those words. You can say them- I can't."

"Oh? So, you are one of them."

Being a commoner, Byleth had never thought much of the consequence of his words. They had little to no importance. His sword- his sword came with consequences, so he trained his sword-arm rather than his tongue. 

"I am so not."

"Then say it."

She said it with a neutral, unamused tone. 

"Tyrant-bitch."

That tickled some bone in Byleth. 

He laughed. 

He was not used to laughing often, so it came out hoarse. His laugh practically fell on the ground, it was so dead. 

She had a grim expression on her face. 

"Professor...you're laughing."

"I'm sorry...you are saying that...it's just...wow."

"What? Really?"

"Yes. Edelgard, you never swear."

"Well, that was weird. I have never heard you laugh like that. It was scary. I won't swear if you promise not to laugh like that ever again."

Although she acted angry, he could see a smile was on her face. He saw the edges of her grin standing up, those big pearls of dimples on her face growing. 

Edelgard smiling. She used to rarely if ever smile when she was still a student. Was something different? 

Was the difference him?

Byleth could feel himself lurching on the saddle, so he reached around her waist, holding onto her for support. 

She craned her head back towards him.

"You can lean on my back if it helps Professor. You need to rest. I will wake you when we have arrived. "

He did, resting his head on her shoulder. 

Byleth's stomach was kind of churning, and his leg felt like it was full of shards of glass while he waited for the potion to kick-in. 

But at least he had Edelgard. His favorite monarch. 


	6. Chasing Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flame Emperor has taken the Flame Keeper with them to uncover hidden truths about the future plans of their shadowy allies. But is it the future they're really there to find, or the past?

Byleth kept a few feet behind Edelgard. She had a better grip on how to handle the Slitherer's than he did. 

Knowing his skills at subterfuge, he'd wind up greeting the guard with a "Hey, I'm Byleth! You know, that guy you all tried to banish to oblivion." 

Byleth and Jeralt's ordinary tactic was to strike first, take down names later. Usually when they had to engage in the more delicate arts of combat... 

Who was he kidding? There was no such thing as 'delicate' with a 200+ pound man of hulking mass and a his equally unstealthy son. 

They were treading down the dirt-path to what appeared to be a deep-woods redoubt. He didn't know exactly where they were, but he knew that they were near the border between the Empire and Kingdom, somewhere off the road to some city called Arianrhod. At least, that is what Edelgard told him. Byleth hadn't been in these parts much. She seemed to know them well.

They were somewhere in the western unkempt weald of Fódlan, a ways off the road where they were ambushed by the bandits. The hideaway of the Slitherer's stood before them.

The stone fortress was surrounded by a square of earthenwork walls and wooden palisades. The fort was covered from being spotted off the roadside by the heavy forest cover, but a swath of it had been cut away around the forts immediate exterior beyond the walls, making for a further spotting distance.

Atop the palisade were eight towers, one for each corner, and another for each side. Mages stood at the tops of each. They wore black robes, their faces hidden. Their hoods were pointed at the top, much taller than the mages actually heads reached. 

Purple thread, in thick lines originating from the top of their hoods worked its way down their uniform. It formed lines down to the back, where it gathered into a crest, the symbol of the Slitherer's.

"Remind me, if this is a covert mission, why are we heading through the front gate Edelgard?" 

She kept walking down, using the butt of her axe as a hiking stick. Their weapons, both Aymr and the Sword of the Creator were cloaked in a black mist. It was impossible to tell the weapons identities. 

"Because, I know my Uncle. This place, without a doubt, is trapped with a layer of magical wards, not to mention teeming with his underlings. I'd rather convince them we're here for innocent purposes, then, when we see an opening, sneak off to his study. They don't need to know we ever found anything." 

She continued. 

"And remember our names, Flame Keeper?" 

"Does it matter? They can't hear us from here." 

"We're allies with them, not friends. I thought of wearing these, to protect your identity." 

"Would they attack me?" 

"They already tried, despite my wishes." 

Byleth knew when he agreed to come, that the Slitherer's feared his power. Though he hadn't contemplated that the reason they were disguised like this, might be because Edelgard was trying to protect him. 

"As you command, Flame Emperor." 

"Shush, we're almost at the gate now. Let me take the lead, you keep quiet." 

Edelgard 'The Flame Emperor' stepped over to the Guardswoman at the redoubt's gate. 

The woman, in armor as black as theirs, but a poisonous purple hood over her open-face helmet, greeted them with a grin. 

It looked like an ordinary, warm grin. But Byleth couldn't shake off a sense of unease. Her's wasn't an innocent woman's smile.

"Hail, Flame Emperor. You didn’t send word of your coming." 

"An emergency came up." 

The Guard looked them both over, as if she could tell something about them by looking at cold black metal. 

"I don't think any of my bosses are here right now. Thales is out collecting... ingredients for his experiments." 

She responded cooly. 

"That's fine. We can drop a note off for them to read later." 

She pushed Edelgard further. She peered up at the Flame Emperor, looking into those soulless eyes that lacked the glimmer of light in Edelgard’s. 

“Listen. You might be the Emperor, but if I just let you in here, and something happens, you'll regret it.” 

The woman stared at her, not backing down. Had she seriously just threatened them?

Edelgard stood her ground. 

“If it is found that an important message was missed because of you, you’ll be the sorry one.” 

The woman stepped back, holding her hands up. 

“Fine. I’m not dealing with Thales- you can deal with the fallout.” 

Edelgard walked past her, brushing against the woman. 

"Then don't stand in our way." 

The woman signaled the men atop the gate, next to the pully to lift the portcullis. 

"Open the gates! The Flame Emperor is here!" 

Byleth edged forward, taking a few steps through the stone gateway.

As he passed, the woman reached her spear's point out in front of him, blocking him. 

"Whoa whoa, whoa. Who is this even?" 

Edelgard turned around to face the woman at the fort's mouth. 

"That is-." 

The woman waved her hand. 

"He can answer for himself. Hmm, I wonder what he looks like under that helmet. You can show me in my quarters later if you want. Alone." 

Was this guard, a guard of the group that murdered his father, tortured Edelgard, and, if memory served correctly, attempted to banish him from existence seriously hitting on him? 

Byleth wanted to stab her in the stomach. But he knew he had to keep calm. If he revealed himself, they'd start a fight, and they'd lose valuable allies. 

"I am but my Emperor's Keeper. The Flame Keeper." 

Edelgard kept her head turnt towards him as they both walked into the fort. 

"Presumptuous of you, to assume you are my keeper." 

"Do you not agree?" 

She didn't say anything to that, but she also didn't object. 

Instead, Edelgard led him towards the wooden front door of the square fort, reinforced with metal rebar. 

Edelgard put her hand on the door handle, pulling it open. 

A man slipped out of it before they could enter. 

The man was tall, taller than Hubert, maybe even more so than the Duscur behemoth, Dedue. 

He had a broad build, but not one that was muscular, so much as it appeared, he knew how to eat, a lot. His hair was an unusual color for the Slithers. Many of the older ones seemed to have pure white hair, like Thales and Solon. This man, if you could call him that, looked like he was in their age class. Yet his hair was a deep, almost black, purple. If his hair had been white once, Byleth imagined he had poured the reddest wine onto his hair to change the shade. The hair was straight, flat, and face-framing with long tendrils of hairlocks running down to the base of his head. Strands of some stray black hair peppered his mane. 

His eyes were voids of blackness, with little constellations of stars as irises that might be pretty on another face but were deeply unsettling to Byleth as they were now. 

He had on a black mage's robe, long and close to his body. Pale white scale plate protected his torso's vital organs. Gold trimmed each individual scale, offering a certain illustrious quality to it. Probably the oddest feature of his though were the thin, neat scars, shaped like lightning bolts along his head. There was one, off to the side, near his left, that cut through the purple brow, and maybe three on either side of his head. They were a more bleached white than the rest of his whitish, grey skin. He carried a mages staff. 

He spoke to both of them in a voice that could pierce a God’s heart. It was low, and guttural. 

“Who are you?” 

Edelgard responded. 

“I am the Flame Emperor. This is my...associate, my Flame Keeper. Are you new?” 

“No, I am not. I do not believe we have ever met before though. I am Dagon, creator of the next world.” 

Byleth looked at her, hoping she could sense his feelings. 

Was this man real? ‘Creator of the next world’? 

Sothis sneered in his head. 

“Is he serious? Creator? I’m a Goddess, and even I don’t know how I did that! Can you guess what he means by such an arrogant claim?” 

Dagon turned towards Byleth now. 

“Flame Keeper? If you have words for me, why not say them out loud, hmm? We are all allies here.” 

Dagon rolled his eyes from him, returning to Edelgard's direction, not expecting an answer. 

What did he mean by that. Byleth hadn’t said anything out loud. The only one talking had been Sothis. 

“Byleth. Does he know- about me? Does he know I’m one with you? I don’t like him.” 

Neither did Byleth. But they couldn’t let him bother them. He was probably just a grunt in the organization. 

Edelgard answered for him. 

“My companion doesn’t speak for us. I do. We are here to leave a message. I could leave it with you, if you aren’t busy...” 

His face scrunched up into a jeering posture. His downturned, thin pressed lips said as much. 

“No, that would be a bother. I have matters to attend to. I only wanted to meet the three of you anyways. We're finished here.” 

He gave them a bow. 

“Good day, Flame Emperor. I’ll let Thales know when he comes.” 

She looked back at him, with her foot at the door. 

“There are only two of us.” 

He laughed. 

“Oh, I know girl. I know.” 

Edelgard seemed ready to ask him a follow-up question, but Byleth shoved her through the door. 

He knew. How did he know? Who was he? 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Edelgard groaned. 

"That was terrible. I hate interacting with them." 

They were in her Uncle's study, on the top level of the fort. Two slit-holes for windows offered scant light in the room. Wooden supports accented the trimming of the room. A magical lantern, brimming with rust red light from the trapped essence of decomposing fairy corpses offered decent reading light for the desk, but little else. 

Had they ever heard of a candle? Why did these people need a dead fairy to see?

They were both stooped over his desk, where Volkhard appeared to write letters to his underlings. 

There was a cubby-hole shelf behind the desk, full of letters, quills, and various loose leaves of paper. 

“That man- he concerns me Flame Emperor.” 

“You? Worried? You normally are sure in ourselves, my Flame Keeper.” 

“I am. I think he might’ve guessed who I was.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yes, I do. Just the way he looked at me, it gave me a bitter feeling.” 

“Well, I'd be interested in poking around my Uncle's study more, but it's too dangerous. Let's just find what we need so we can leave.” 

"Do we actually have a note for your Uncle?" 

She reached into her rucksack, shimmying around for a minute, jostling the bag to coax something up. 

Out she pulled a surprisingly crisp piece of Imperial letterhead. The letterhead sealed with wax, a red one, stamped with the crest of her family, the double-headed eagle. 

"Right here. I thought of every detail I could to convince my Uncle this was an innocent visit. If he caught on to us, he'd come to the Monastery, and then we'd be screwed with Hubert." 

"He really is impossible for you to keep anything from, isn't here?" 

"Hubert? Yes, absolutely. He is a tad overbearing at times, but he is just passionate about what we're doing. But what about you my Keeper?" 

"What about me? I don't have a prick managing my affairs, no." 

She chuckled before she scoffed. 

"That's not what I meant." 

"Then what do you mean?" 

"What I mean is...well, do you have any passions...or objectives?" 

"I want to win this war, without losing any of you." 

"You’ve mentioned that. But you must have some aspirations of your own." 

"No, not really." 

She moaned, clearly disappointed.

"Oh, Flame Keeper...that's the opposite of what I wanted to hear. I don't want your entire life to be subject to me." 

"You want me to seek something, all for myself?" 

"Not necessarily...you might want to seek something...someone...that benefits another. But it has to be something you want, not just something I need. Otherwise you just sound like Hubert! 

"I thought you just defended Hubert. Isn't being like him good?"

"Ugh... Hubert is good. It's fine that Hubert serves me, because he wants to. But I just...I feel that you deserve better, more, in life. Hubert is my servant, I don't view you as one."

"I am on your payroll."

"Oh teacher, that is just formalities. I'm talking about us, where we stand together. Remember? It's as we agreed, we're equals. Equals are supposed to have independence from one another. "

"Do you think I lack a mind of my own?" 

"I don't know? Do you have one? You work with me of your own volition, so you must have free-will. I'm just wondering how you use it." 

"Flame Emperor, Mercenaries don't usually have long term goals. Our only goal is to survive the day. It's foolish to have any dream greater than seeing your pillow, when you live your life expecting to die." 

"You're different, do you know that? Most people have their own ambitions and plans. I'm one of them. But you...you just live in the moment." 

“My ‘goal’ Flame Emperor is to live in the moment. My ‘cause’ is keeping us all alive. I suppose I want to do what's right. But I feel I’m already doing that. Why do I need to be original, isn’t what matters that I’m doing what I should be?” 

She leaned her head forward, looking down at the old wooden floorboards carpeted in a thin layer of dust.

“I see...” 

"Did I answer your question?" 

"Oh, there wasn't any right answer...but yes, you did in the end." 

She bent her head back up.

"We'd better get searching. See if you can find anything at all about what their immediate plans are. I have something else to search for." 

Byleth picked through each of the cubby-holes. He tried to flip through each of them as fast as he could, but it was difficult, seeing as he had mammoth metallic thumbs. 

Most of the notes, as he skimmed through them, were boring. They were receipts, or simple orders. 

Although, some of those receipts were odd, such as 'ten Pegasus spleens: 100 gold pieces.' 

What were they purchasing Pegasus spleens for? 

Others were really disturbed in nature. These receipts went back a ways too. 

There was one, dated from Imperial year 1160. 'Subjected a villager, approximate age 3, to insertion of the Crest of Gautier, through the skull. No known relations with the family. Died instantly. It appears reception of the crests is stronger with Nobles, weaker with common blood.’ 

He slid the note back into its cubbyhole. 

If it were so unusual for commoners to have crests...why did he have one? Why did he have the most powerful crest...as a commoner? 

Byleth kept searching, trying to find something. 

It was best not to laze about; no telling how much privacy they really had. Someone could be watching. 

He slipped another one out. 

This one was on a fresher parchment and was dated very recently. Imperial Year 1185. 

He uncreased the note, reading through it. 

"I think I found something." 

She turned up towards him from where she had been searching. 

"What? What does it say?" 

It took a moment to peruse it, as Byleth's reading skills, being a commoner and all, weren't fantastic. But he didn't eventually get the gist of it.

For once, Byleth couldn't speak. He tried to move his lips, but they wouldn't unlatch from each other and he just ended up mumbling. 

"My Flame Emperor..." 

He flipped the note around, showing it to her. 

All it said was, in the sharp, no-nonsense penmanship of her Uncle was the following: 

"Subject #1 has grown too close to the commoner with the crest of flames. If they become inseparable, they present an unacceptable risk to us. If we cannot coax him into hating her, or remove him as a threat, then we must destroy him. Capture the commoner when possible and steal his crest of flames. Rob him of his heart. His life is meaningless without it. He is common filth." 

As she read it, Edelgard could feel her blood pressure rising. The vein on the left side of her forehead pulsed with blood, and her eyes were on fire.

This note and ones like it were why Edelgard despised Fódlan's crests, the nobility, and this world built around worship of the Goddess. Byleth was useless in their minds, if he had no crest? How could such a masterful warrior, a son of Jeralt the Mercenary Knight, ever be called useless? How could someone so...incredibly kind...be filth? He wasn't filth. 

"Flame Keeper...if I had any idea this was their plan, I'd never bring you here. We should go, we'd be risking too much remaining." 

"What about the other note?" 

She slipped the note he has shown her back into its cubbyhole. 

"Just forget it. I couldn’t find it. It was stupid of me to hope I'd be able to find evidence. We found what we needed, let's go." 

Byleth rested his arm on the desk, leaning on it. He tried to look into her eyes, beyond the helmet.

"What evidence? What are you looking for?" 

She sighed. It came out as a hellish groan with her mask on. 

"Arghh. I wanted to show you some sort of evidence, whatever there is, that I had nothing to do with Jeralt's murder."

Edelgard moved her left arm up, so it covered her face. Though she was wearing a helmet, he knew she had to be blushing. She always blushed when she felt the most emotionally intense about something. Her voice was bashful, and sweet.

"I don't want you to doubt me, to...hate me."

Byleth cupped his hands around her helmet, trying to stare deep enough that he could see hints of purple through the blackness. 

He couldn't, but he knew those eyes were in there somewhere.

"I never doubted that you had no role in Jeralt's killing." 

"How could you know? I was the Flame Emperor. As far as you knew, I was friends with Kronya. Ugh, just the idea of being that Monsters friend is...revolting." 

"You've always been pragmatic, sure. But callous? No, that couldn't be you." 

Byleth thought about whether that was enough. There was something else he felt, but it wasn't a feeling he was used to having. He tried to really look beyond that mask now. Still nothing. But when he remembered when he saw those eyes, or rare sliver of a smile, he felt warm where his heart was supposed to be beating. Edelgard was special to him. 

No, it wasn't enough.

"I knew you couldn't have, because I love you. Love doesn't betray." 

He could see those purple daydreams now. They were practically glimmering, and faded in and out of the blackness. Was she...fluttering her eyes?

"You...love me?" 

Her voice was higher now. For a moment, the Flame Emperor's voice sounded almost like the Lady of Hresvelg's. 

"Of course, I do. You're my best friend." 

Her voice fell back down again, to its normal pitch. 

"Of course, best friends."

She backed off from him a few steps.

"This has been lovely, but shouldn't we be leaving now?"

"You're probably right. We've been here long enough and I--." 

She put her finger up against his helmets mouth opening, signaling for him to shush. 

They both listened, as that thick door to the fort opened. 

They could hear chatter, three stories down. 

Edelgard spoke in a hushed, sullen voice. 

"I think...It's one of them." 

She reached for his hand. 

"What are we doing? Can't we just say hello, and offer a quick goodbye? Just say we left a letter for your Uncle?" 

She turned towards him. 

"You aren't dumb enough to believe that. We won't leave this place alive, unless we get out that front door without being spotted. Now come on." 

She tugged on his hand, pulling him along. 

“Flame Emperor. I’m not following. What’s the problem?” 

She stared at him. 

“Do you need me to spell it out for you? If they realize who you are, they’ll kill you. I can’t risk losing you too.” 

He gripped her hand tighter. 

“Lead the way then.” 

"Just follow me. I know what I'm doing. I’ll protect you my Keeper." 

They stepped down the flight of stairs, trying to keep quiet while hurrying. That was made difficult by the fact they both were wearing heavy armor. 

The stairs were a straight shot down from the study, at the top front left corner of the fort, down to the entranceway. 

She stopped right before the entrance, as she peered around to see if she could glimpse him. 

"Dammit. It's Thales. He's in the main room." 

Byleth snuck a peak himself around the wood-framed doorway. 

Thales was standing there, talking to the Guard who had let them in. Thales, the man who had kept Byleth from preventing his Dad's death. 

Edelgard put a hand on her head, rubbing the mask. She muttered quietly so that only he could catch it. 

"We're never getting out. If we sprint for the door now, they'll spot us, and he'll try to flag us down." 

Byleth could see the hatch they were both standing on. It didn't look locked. 

"Could we make it out here?" 

She looked down at it. 

"Yes, through the back exit. But we can't go there." 

"Why not?" 

She didn't immediately respond, instead looking at Thales walking over- towards them. 

"Flame Emperor. We need to leave. Why can't we go this way?" 

She looked back at him. 

"Those...are the dungeons." 

Dungeons. Byleth by now knew Edelgard's history with dungeons. 

But he also knew he didn't want to lose his heart. 

"Would you, for my sake?" 

Edelgard, as Thales came closer pulled on the door ring. 

She took the first rung of the ladder down. 

Byleth went behind her, shutting the hatch as silently as he could behind them. 

Byleth loved Edelgard enough to trust her, even when he was left in the dark about some of her actions. She hadn't murdered his Father. 

Edelgard loved Byleth enough to go somewhere she was frightened of. 

Their love for each other was real. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Byleth's boots dropped off in the puddle of murky sewer water below the lowest rung. 

He stepped back, Edelgard facing the dungeons sole hallway down to the back-exit, her back turned to him. 

She was holding her arms, rubbing her hands along her forearms, and tapping her boots against the ground.

"Could we just get this over with? Being here makes me uneasy." 

"Wait. I want to see if they follow." 

Byleth knew from experience if you were going to have a fight, you might as well face it. That was better than an unexpected threat, or worse, being chased. 

Someone did creak open the hatch, staring down into the hole. 

Byleth backed up in reverse, pushing Edelgard further down the hall. 

He readied the Sword of the Creator, lifting it up. 

If he was about to fight Thales, he would get the first hit. He'd be the only ally Edelgard needed. Screw "Those with Slither in the Dark". After all they had done to Byleth and Edelgard, he wanted nothing more than to shove a holy relic up his pasty white ass, and brand Jeralt’s name into his intestines with the blades burning flame. 

Thales opened his mouth. 

Had they been found out? Was this it?

"Nothing. You are positive you didn't see them leave?" 

A female voice, one he couldn't see spoke. It must have been the Guard.

"No Lord Thales. They must have made a quiet exit." 

He turned away from the hatch, his hand still keeping it ajar.

"Quiet exit? We have only one gate fool. Were you sleeping again?"

"No! I wasn't! I swear."

"Ugh. Incompetence. I suppose I had better check on what the girl left me."

He slammed the hatch, a few footsteps pounding over the hatch...and then silence. 

Byleth lowered his guard. 

"Dammit. I wanted him." 

She tugged on his arm. 

"Now is not the time. We need to get out of here. Preferably soon." 

Byleth began walking alongside her. He knew she hated this place; he should try to help her through it. 

Edelgard didn't immediately break down upon entering the dungeon. She kept walking, trudging through it. 

The dungeon had a narrow central corridor, that went the full-length of the area, to the back exit, at the end of the corridor. On the left were cells, with steel beam doors, held up by flat, grey stones. To the right, were more cells, maybe twenty, separated from the corridor by a slim channel of sewage water that snaked around the over-tune, loose stones. Rough, dilapidated wooden planks bridged the chasm between the corridor and each cell. In terms of light, there was the torch, at the base of the ladder, and a few interspersed every five or so cells. The area definitely had the ‘moody’ dungeon aesthetic. 

They progressed slowly, trying to keep an eye out for any danger. 

Something sprinted out in front of them. The shadow stopped in the center of the hall. A rat. It was large, about the size of a small dog. Maybe a corgi? It was old, with wiry brown fur sprinkled with white. 

Edelgard backed off from it, uttering an eek. 

Byleth reached out towards it with his outstretched sword, swatting at the thing. 

The rat took a moment to look at both of them, before scampering off. 

“That wasn’t too bad, was it Edelgard?” 

“I think it would best for us to just move on.” 

As they made it through most of the hall and were about three-fourths of the way to the exit, so close that Byleth could feel the rush of the cool late-day breeze tickling his legs through the armor, she stopped. 

"Edelgard?" 

She turned into one of the cells, in the long row of them. 

Byleth followed her into it. 

Why was she going there? 

The small, six foot by six-foot square room lacked any ornamentation or windows. 

A rat was in the corner. But it just ignored their presence, eating some long-left over crumb. This was much leaner than the other one. Maybe it was a baby? How did the rats here vary so much in size? 

Apparently the rats weren't scared of a Flame Emperor and her Keeper down here.

She leaned against the doorway to the cell. 

Edelgard took her helmet off now, putting it in one arm. 

"Edelgard? What's wrong?" 

The rat, having collected its prize, hurried off past them now, into a little crack in the wall. 

“Could you take your helmet off for a second?” 

“Why?” 

He took it off, putting it in his own arm. 

“I need to look at someone's face right now.” 

She looked at him. 

Edelgard's face didn’t look like she was overcome with emotion. She wasn’t blushing, nor was she crying. She wasn’t even frowning. If she was upset, she wasn’t letting it on. 

“Do you know where we are, my teacher?” 

Byleth took the time to think on it. 

She was often a difficult person to read, even reserved. 

But considering the place, considering the fact they were in a dungeon, he had to hedge a guess... 

Byleth wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her. 

“I'm sorry.” 

She took her own arms, slipping them around his waist. 

“I... I didn’t expect this from you, my teacher.” 

“You need one here? Right? This is the sort of place people give them?” 

She sat her head under his own, resting her chin in the crevice between his pecs. 

“Yes, it is. Oh...I think I needed a hug here.” 

“Edelgard? Is this...” 

“It is what you think it is. My family was taken here on our journey to Arianrhod. It was the first place we were locked away."

“Were you...here.” 

He was uncomfortable saying the words. He didn't want to bring up those memories for her. He wanted her dreams to peaceful tonight.

“You can say it my teacher, I'm not a little girl. You have my consent.” 

“Were you tortured here?” 

She shook her head. 

“No. It was only a holding cell. But being here is difficult, all the same, because of its place in our story. I swore to myself to burn this fort down after the war.” 

“Then why did we come? Just for the letters?” 

“Mostly, yes. But I also wondered If I could be in this place without giving into the call of yesterday.” 

“You’re worried about falling into depression?” 

“There was a time...when I lived in my sorrow. But I don’t feel that way so much anymore. I have something live for...people to live for. Don't mistake me, I was capable of surviving by myself... but I'm happier these days. I credit you for much of that.” 

“That’s wonderful Edelgard.” 

She looked at him sweetly, putting on a brave face. 

“Honestly, I'm amazed with myself. This went...well. If you could call it that.” 

“You're stronger than most.” 

She kissed him on the cheek, pecking at him lightly. 

Her lips, the lips of an Emperor, were soft. A warm sensation was left at the sight. It was a little kiss. But a memorable one. 

“Thank you for coming here with me, my beloved teacher.” 

“It was nothing.” 

“All the same. Having you with me, made this tolerable.” 

“Do you want to stay then? We could eat dinner here. I’ll ask Thales what he’s preparing.” 

He grinned. 

“If it's all the same to you, I’d like to get out of here. I’ve proven to myself I can get through this. There is no need to push it.” 

Byleth stepped back, letting Edelgard adjust herself. She was probably right. He could hear footsteps overhead. They shouldn't remain so close to people like Thales, or that Dagon character anyways. It would be unwise to flirt with fate any longer.

"We'd better go, my teacher. It's still early enough that if we go now, we might make it to the Monastery in one trek." 

Byleth moved in line behind her. 

Edelgard held the door open for him, and they walked out into the late evening light. 

Away from the edge. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


	7. Hiding Feelings

Byleth had his head buried in his task. His hands pushed down on the sword of the creator as he honed it on the grindstone, at the Monastery training grounds. 

He was sitting on a wooden chair he had hoisted off from the dining hall. He was provided some shade under the roof of the colonnade in the far back corner of the grounds.

Byleth and Edelgard had somehow managed to sneak into the Monastery unnoticed in the early morning, before anyone had really woken up. He hadn't slept since their first night out together, having ridden the horse all the way through the night. Byleth had suggested they catch breakfast together. But Edelgard had seemed distanced, when they got back, she didn't want to do anything together at all. He wasn't sure why, something had happened in the redoubt to shake her.

Byleth worked his hands over the length of the blade, expertly sharpening it.

Even legendary artifacts needed to be sharpened, as it happened.

He kept his eyes on his work, not paying attention to the soldiers practicing their sparring skills at the other end of the arena. Caspar was working with them. Normally he'd like to watch them. 

Sothis's voice sent shockwaves down his ear canal.

"I know you're thinking about something. You isolate yourself when you're upset about something."

"Do I?" He asked with a tinge of rhetoric.

"Yes you do. You ignored even me after your Father. Don't be so insolent!"

"Not that I'll tell you what I'm thinking."

"I live in your thoughts. How pray-tell, do you intend to keep a secret from me?"

"If you are so wise to my thoughts, then why won't you tell me what I'm thinking?"

"You're thinking about that girl again! That...that... lady in red. She wears red."

"Her name is Edelgard."

"She's your friend, not mine."

"We've known her for over a year."

"Don't ignore the question at hand! Forget what I know!"

Byleth sighed. His shoulders slumped, and he lift his foot off the pedal at the base of the grindstone, that caused the wheel to turn, sharpening the blade.

"Sothis, what is the point of this?"

"You're hurting. Something is wrong inside."

Was he? Byleth was still processing what he felt. It was trying, understanding what he felt. Byleth didn't feel like some sort of automaton, that lacked any emotion. He just...didn't totally understand what was inside of him.

His Dad thought something was wrong with him. Jeralt had taken him to several doctors, even a shrink when he was little, to find out if he had a health condition. 

Byleth was a perfectly healthy adult male. One Doctor said he could afford to ease off pie. He was a rather pudgy child when that happened...and he did love pie. But he wasn't sick.

"Byleth. What you feel is pain."

He rested the sword in the notch between his knees and the wheel.

He then slid up one of his arm sleeves.

He didn't see a cut.

"No you doofus. I mean in your heart...assuming you have one."

"What reason is there for me to feel pain in my heart?"

"Because you want her, idiot."

Did he?

She sneered at that thought.

"No, you just followed her into a lion's den because she's a 'friend'. Please. I could tell how giddy you were when she kissed you. I think I felt your heart beat!"

Byleth rolled his eyes

Right. That.

Byleth seriously didn't know. Had he really wanted to go with Edelgard, because of some sort of romantic feelings? 

He admitted he followed Edelgard into the classroom, because he was concerned about her. But was that because of romance, or just friendliness?

If so, how long had he desired her? Had all of his actions been fueled by his sentiments for her?

"I think it was at the mausoleum you developed an attraction."

Huh? Edelgard could've killed him then. No, he was pissed at her then.

"I said attracted, not empathetic. You thought she was really hot in that armor of hers."

He gulped.

The Flame Emperor's armor...when she took the helmet off was...

Byleth made a distinctive 'o' shape with his lips, breathing out a gasp of hot air with a 'woooo' sound.

"Byleth! No dirty thoughts!"

She was one to talk.

"Byleth! What is your issue? A beautiful, powerful woman kissed you."

The truth was, Byleth didn't know if he had romantic feelings for Edelgard. He knew he loved her. He knew she was...well...gorgeous.

But Byleth didn't know if he had romantic feelings for anyone. There was one girl, as a kid. One of the other mercenaries' daughters. She had short obsidian black hair, of a dark, sunny complexion. 

Then her Mom went and got herself slain in battle... she hadn't another parent, so Jeralt had to drop her off at an orphanage. He contemplated adopting her, but Byleth was enough for him to handle he supposed.

But that was so long ago, and he mostly just thought she was pretty. That wasn't romantic love.

He was pretty sure, at least.

Again, he didn't know. Byleth had never been an emotional person, and Jeralt was also a cruddy teacher in that department. He tried but failed miserably pretty early on.

For about a month, his Dad would randomly reach his leg out as they walk, trying to trip Byleth, just into grass, betting he'd cry. Byleth's knee got all tore up, but he didn't cry.

He stopped testing Byleth after that.

Byleth knew he liked her. Edelgard was intelligent, strong....her battle prowess was unrivaled.

Sothis was ripping into him. Byleth wasn't sure if he grew guilt, or just dismayed.

"Ughhhh! Shut up about war! I...urgh. I wish I could tell you what romance is. I don't understand your species affairs anymore than you do. But war doesn't matter. I know that."

Byleth looked up, to watch the soldiers.

One of the new recruits was sitting on the ground, dazed. He must have had the wind knocked out of him from a hit. The training swords were too weak to cut, but they were still heavy.

Two of his friends reached down to help him up, holding their arms out to him.

With their help, he pulled himself up.

That was nice of them.

Sothis's voice rang.

"Wait...that's it! Love is about what you do for people Byleth. Romantic love...I...it's coming back to me. If you are romantically interested in someone, you're excited to love them."

"I'm...excited to help Edelgard? Why?"

"Oh...I don't know why! You figure it out. Do you care about her? That could explain it."

"I definitely think I do. But...if I feel romantically about her, then am I only helping her for myself?"

"Huh? What kind of daft thought is that?"

He just supposed that...if he was acting out of his own emotions...then he didn't really care about her. That sounded terrible...but how could he claim to care about her, about everything she wanted...if it was all for him? For the thrill he got?

"No, that can't be it. You're a fool. You can do both."

Byleth was so confused at this point. Maybe Sothis was right. Maybe it was okay that he wanted to help Edelgard because of how she...made him...feel? 

"Yes, you have feelings. I could sense your joy when she kissed you."

...But if Byleth did have romantic feelings for Edelgard, and that was okay, then what was his problem?

"You friend zoned her."

"What do you mean by that?"

She practically screamed it in his ear.

"Are you a dolt? She reached out for you, when you said you loved her...and you said 'as bestfriends'. Goddess. I'd hate you if I were her. What is wrong with you?"

That was it.

Byleth wanted Edelgard as his friend.

"Do you know why? Do you have a reason why you don't want an attractive person you love as your girlfriend?"

Byleth rested his eyes, trying to imagine her face.

His imagination painted a rosy picture of her. Her eyes shone, a smile on her face. She was blushing.

No. He did want to date her.

"I do. I...do want her as a friend...but I also want to date her. I want both."

Sothis was practically seething.

"Then what. Is. Your. Problem. Byleth?? You can't make out with friends! That's not how that works, that's not how any of this works!"

He hedged a bet. 

"Maybe...I don't feel worthy or something?"

"I don't think she cares that you are common."

"Neither do I. No, that's not it...it's just...Edelgard deserves better."

"She said you bring her happiness. You make her life better."

"Yeah, as her friend. Why does she need me though?"

Sothis's voice changed now, she was more in agreement with now. She had to admit that was true.

"She is rather independent..."

Byleth stood up now, sliding the sword into his sheath. The sun was setting. Edelgard had told him they were having another war-meeting after sun fall. He should get going. His sword was as sharp as she was getting.

He had found the clarity he was looking for anyways.

"Exactly. I'm not of any more use to her, as a boyfriend, than as a friend."

"Byleth, I worry you're discounting yourself. She does need you."

"She doesn't need me as her lover."

"You don't think you could contribute to a relationship?"

"I just realized what it means to feel romantic. I'm oblivious to emotions, and at best, I can offer her advice on wielding a sword. She needs me as a confidant, not romantically. I can't explain it Sothis...Edelgard deserves someone she needs more than anyone. I don't feel she needs me as much as I want her."

"You're even more noble than that Ferdinand character. You really do love her...ahh...there is some phrase I'm remembering...'love requires you're willing to give them up for their sake.' you're the true hero of this story...but it's a tragic one. I can't help but feel you deserve a better story..."

He didn't want their love story to be tragic. Byleth wanted to at least to achieve what Jeralt had with mother. 

After the war, Edelgard would probably find some noble to marry. He'd make sure they really loved her. Someone who was capable of caring for her. But after, he'd return to life as a mercenary. She could be happy...without him. He was going to try to hold on to these memories, and just enjoy this moment.

Yes. 

Byleth pushed open the door out of the arena, with his closed fist.

He had to.

The door slammed behind the Ashen Demon.

Edelgard was a fire too hot to ever hold. He could only ever walk in her shadow, relishing in the warmth of her light.

But he hated that he had to. If he could just understand what it meant to feel something, if she needed him in that way...things could be different.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Claude slammed his head against the the table.

He was in the central chamber of Derdriu's capitol. His family's house. He had asked most of his friends here to discuss tactics early in the morning, before the sun even rose, so they'd have the whole day.

Raphael pulled him back up, his meaty hands grabbing Claude's sort of lanky arms.

"Come on big guy. You can't give up! Ignatz wouldn't want us to."

Claude wiped his eyes clear of sweat.

"I just can't believe we'd lose him like that. Ugh. I should've stayed at the bridge."

Hilda crossed her arms. 

"No you shouldn't have. What use would it be to the Alliance, if you got yourself killed Claude! We did fine without you, considering the circumstances. That battle just wasn't winnable."

Claude nodded.

"You're right. I just can't help but think of the about that smug look I must've given Edelgard."

Raphael grunted.

"Do you think she cares?"

"Do I...think she cares? Honestly, given the choice between siding with the Empire and the Kingdom right now, I'd be with Edelgard. Dmitri was a friend, but Rhea is...well, let's just say I'm glad Dmitri has to babysit the central Church, not me."

Marianne spoke softly, sheepishly approaching the table.

"Maybe...we could ally? Would Edelgard accept that?"

Claude wished it was possible to seek peace. The Alliance always did better at peace. Half of his territory was ready to up and run for the Empire already. Lysithea and Ordelia turning loose was a loss, but not a shock. Gloucester was hanging on by a thread. 

"Edelgard wants nothing but our unconditional surrender. We either fight her, or we bend the knee. I don't want to give in to her that easily. Sweet idea Marianne, but Edelgard has more energy for this war than anyone. She started it."

Hilda moaned.

"Could we stop talking about her? Let's worry about winning this war. I advise that we make preparations to safeguard Derdriu. There is no way this isn't her next target."

Raphael spoke.

"Uh...didn't ya say something about have a surprise in store when you left the Bridge? Something to ready? You told me it would be bigger than one of my sandwiches...and I have big sandwiches. Triple-decker."

Hilda inquired.

"Does this have to do with the Almyran's?"

Claude stroked his beard.

"The Almyran's? They're coming, Nader promised. I can't wait to see how Teach handles Wyverns. But there is more."

He continued.

"What do you guys think about recruiting the Professor to the Leicester Alliance?"

Raphael uttered a slow 'uhh' in confusion.

"The Professor? No way, that man is loyal to Edelgard. He took a rock to the head for the Empire, then walked it off after five years and came right back. Sorry, I just don't see that one happening."

"See, you think too small Raphael. Who says we need to convince him?"

"Uhh...logic I guess."

Claude reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a scroll.

The scroll was a browned parchment, owing to age. It had a yellow ribbon tied neatly around it.

Hilda put her hand on her lip.

"Claude, what is that? What are you doing?"

"Edelgard took Lysithea from us, so we're taking Teach. This is a Head-vex. Marianne, if you just read from this while thinking of the Professor, he'll find himself...let's say, unable to hurt us."

Marianne froze, her face lowered, and shoulders bunched up.

"I-I don't know Claude. What if it hurts him. I don't to leave permanent injury to him."

Hilda threw her arms up in amazement.

"Marianne! They killed Ignatz! They'll kill you too."

"I know Hilda, but that was different. Ignatz died fairly, even if I am saddened by his loss. This...this wouldn't be fair at all. The Professor wouldn't get a chance to fight back at all."

Claude stuffed the scroll back in his pocket.

"Look, if you're uncomfortable with it, then all bets-are-off. We're not going forward with it. We shouldn't lower our standards, even if bringing down the Professor could save the alliance. I wasn't totally comfortable with it either...just seemed like a good plan."

Marianne gripped Claude's arm, tightening her fingers around his wrist.

"No. We should do it. I love the Professor, but...but I'll do it for Ignatz. Oh...I just wish we could go back to when we were all friends again. I don't hate any of them."

Lorenz sighed.

"I do not see why Edelgard had to start this war. It is totally inexcusable of her. Declaring war on the Goddess?"

Claude leaned back over the table, just smirking.

"Knowing her, she sees herself as the whole world's liberator...and I'm just in her way."

"See now that I don't understand Claude. How can you liberate Fódlan from its creator? How does that help anyone?"

Claude craned his neck, cracking the top of his back, near his shoulder blades.

"I'll say this: I've never met someone who cares about changing the world more than she does. She definitely believes herself, and her intentions."

Lorenz made a 'hmph' sound.

"I think that is just arrogance."

Claude nodded in agreement, but thought to himself.

Maybe it was arrogance...or maybe Edelgard was for real. He knew he had to hang on, and Edelgard couldn't be allowed to rule all of Fódlan. The Alliance had to survive. But...she cared more than anyone about anything....and Claude wasn't sure where the Goddess was these days.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Edelgard shuffled a map of Derdriu, the capital of the Alliance from the stack of maps at the center of the table into her hands.

She was sitting at a spare wooden table in the repurposed throneroom, with Hubert across from her. It was the easiest room to fit them all for a meeting.

Some of the staff, people she had brought with her from the Palace, were diligently cleaning the upper floor of the Monastery. Maids were dusting and shaking dust off carpets, and a few of the Butlers were ordering people to mop or not to forget to dust behind the candle sticks. It was a cleaning day. The only room they didn't venture into, was this one. They knew not to interrupt.

She took a quill pen off the table, and dipping it in a glass vessel of ink, drew a careful, slim line of black, with little arrow's through it, representing a flank.

Hubert drew his own line, across from hers, then spoke.

"I've summoned for the others. They should be arriving at the top of the hour."

That hour couldn't come soon enough.

Edelgard slipped her hand into her pocket, careful that Hubert didn't see her.

She felt the note she had left, with her pointer finger and thumb. It was a little scrap of paper, but it had the proof she needed.

She had taken it from her Uncle's desk.

She had searched for some sort of evidence that she had nothing to do with Remire. She wanted to find that letter she had written to her Uncle, telling him that if he had her work with Kronya ever again, Edelgard would wring her neck. Edelgard was so furious in that letter, her words were falling off the page and slapping in the face. At least, that was her hope. She didn't want anything to do with Jeralt's murderer.

But when she couldn't locate anything, she had to look for this. Edelgard wanted to spend all day at that desk, searching for the evidence she needed to show him that she did care, that she did think about his interests. But she had to find this, it was crucial to everything. Everything they had worked for, years of planning, could be screwed up. She couldn't believe her Uncle would try to pull this over her. Finding it made the entire trip worth it. Well...

She bit her lip.

Being with him...that made it doubly worth it.

It felt wrong to hide this note from the Professor, but she had to keep it to herself until it was right. 

Edelgard had suspicions, ones confirmed by their little visit to the fortress.

Edelgard ran her hand through her hair. It was unusually dry, and disheveled. Some hair had fallen loose out of its bun, and was drooping over her face. Her eyes were dark, and drooping over porcelain skin. She had spent the whole night up, worrying about this.

The Lady of Hresvelg looked around the room.

Along the sides of the room, her personal guards lined the room. She had sent for them from Enbarr. She needed to know she could trust her Guards today, and they were her most trusted. They had served her family faithfully for years.

Hubert spoke to her.

"My Lady, how was your...hunting trip... with the Professor? That is where you you say you were?"

He looked at her with those same judging eyes as always. He was sizing her up. 

"It was fine Hubert."

She didn't need to let him on to what they had really been doing. 

A loud chorus of footsteps coming up the central stairwell boomed, finding its way into the throne room.

Edelgard watched as her friends began filing in. Dorothea and Ferdinand came in first, then the rest came single-file after them. 

Jeritza moved in behind her, standing alongside the soldiers.

Edelgard stood up as Linhardt came in, the last of them. She coaxed her loose hair back into its bun, wrapping it around the base of her left golden horn.

"I'll admit, didn't expect to see all of you here on time!"

She looked around, first to Byleth, who was occupying the seat on her right.

On her left, was Ferdinand.

Linhardt spoke.

"We know who you're referencing, Edelgard. I wasn't planning on being this timely, but someone interrupted my nap." He said those last few words with some derision, casting them towards Caspar.

Caspar's hair bounced as he pounced up in his chair, excitedly jumping to his feet as he stood over the table.

"What! I needed help putting the training dummies back in storage! All of the soldiers left me with it!"

Linhardt shook his head.

"They left it to you, because you lost a bet. Why should I have to cover up for your gambling addiction?"

"Listen Linhardt, I don't have a gambling addiction, I---."

Hubert cut them off.

"Would you both quit it? Lady Edelgard had more important matters to speak about than your little quarrels."

"Thank you, Hubert. We have a battle to plan. "

Hubert continued her thoughts.

"I would just like to remind you all. It is undoubtable, Claude is plotting. He didn't run off at the Great Bridge of Myrrdin out of fear. He must have seen that his best option was to retreat, and prepare for our next onslaught. He's like a cornered rat. But a cornered rat can still bite."

Edelgard continued.

"Yes. We will need all of your support, which is why this is so necessary."

She looked around to all of them, before turning to her teacher.

"Please, trust me on this."

Byleth looked her in the eyes. He hadn't caught on yet, he was just stoic. There wasn't any emotion in his eyes.

Edelgard raised her fist in the air.

"Guards. Now."

At her signal, all of them marched forward, standing right behind each of the Black Eagles. All of their weapons were drawn, spears standing proud with their ends to the ground, swords crossing over the table between the students.

Jeritza moved in behind Byleth, standing close so that he couldn't run off easily.

Edelgard waved him off.

"Not the Professor. Leave him be."

"Is that wise?"

Jeritza looked at her, unmoved. He didn't feel badly about this, but she did. She couldn't afford her teacher losing faith in her. She needed his support.

"Yes, of course it's wise. Stand back."

Jeritza nodded.

"As you wish. I will be standing here, with my scythe if he attempts to run."

Jeritza walked back to the wall, standing at the ready.

Hubert looked bewildered. His mouth was agape, eyebrows raised.

"My lady, what is the meaning of this? We had not discuss it."

"I didn't discuss this with anyone Hubert. It had to be kept secret."

Petra pushed on the guard behind her with her hand, trying to shove the woman off.

"Edelgard. What meaning is this having?"

"Please, all of you. I promise there is a reason for this."

She continued.

"The other day, the Professor and I, went on an excursion, to infiltrate the Slitherer's base of operations."

Byleth spoke up first.

"I thought we were keeping that a secret."

"We were...but I found something while we were there that must be addressed."

Hubert steamed. He was obviously irate. His ears were reddening, and for once, he had a face that wasn't so sure of itself.

"Lady Edelgard! I strongly advised against that course of action."

"Hubert, you advise against anything you think is too risky."

He stood up straight.

"For your benefit."

"But this was a necessary risk."

"So you lied to me, and you took the Professor... I'm proud, if albeit furious. I applaud that you're willing to go against me, even if it is inadvisable."

She continued.

"While there, we found a plan to...rob the Professor of his heart, for his crest."

Bernadetta's mouth was now wider than Hubert's. She practically jumped over the table to grab the Professor.

"Nnnot the Professor! We can't let them do that! Where are they...I...I'll kill them!...with your guy's help."

Linhardt spoke.

"I admire your bravery, but let her continue. There must be more to it than that."

Edelgard acknowledged him.

"You're right Linhardt, there is. I didn't tell anyone, including our teacher, until now...but I found something else. I had to piece it together, but I believe that their plan to steal his crest might tie into another plot I found."

She reached into her pocket, pulling out the note.

Edelgard offered it to Byleth, and he read it out loud so everyone could hear.

Signed the 10th of the Pegasus Moon, 1185 it said: "Be poised to take total control of the Monastery, when my niece is away on her next battle with her army. When she returns, we will be in a position to control the Empire from the inside. We cannot afford to start an internal war right now. Our Coup d'état will be done in the shadows, through our usual methods. Don't attempt to pose as her, or that Professor. They are too dangerous to engage."

She looked around to all of them.

"At least one of you must be one of my Uncle's agents."

Hubert huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It seems you have quite the solid basis for some here being a doppelgänger."

"I do, but I wasn't able to determine who it is, or how many of you have been replaced."

Bernadetta started to get worked up. Dorothea hugged her, helping her let it out.

"Whatttt of our friends? Are they all- dea-d-dead? I love all of you! I just can't stand this!"

Edelgard stopped to think, taking the time to process it.

"We can't know that. It's possible they're still alive. But if they are, they're likely in a fragile state."

Byleth spoke.

"All the more reason to act- we must stamp this out."

She uttered a sigh of relief.

"I'm relieved that you are understanding this."

"But how do you intend to figure out who's our traitor?"

"You'll witness it in a moment my teacher. Guards, bring in the mage!"

At her command, the two guards placed at the door opened them wide, letting someone in.

It was an older man. She could tell, because he carried a cane, and was stooped over. His movements were slow. He kept a hood over his face, so she couldn't make out his face. Who had she hired? Would he even have the strength for this?

The man stood at the opposite end of the table from here, where she stood at the head. 

"Beautiful evening, my master. May I serve?"

"You may. You're prepared?"

The man looked up in his hood. He offered a thin-lipped smile.

"I am. I can begin the ritual at once."

The warlock reached into his sleeve, letting a satchel slip out.

He untied it, looking inside.

"Yes, enough for at least one summoning."

The man swiped his arm through the air in annoyance.

"This table! Remove it! I must have access to the floor!"

Without a word, the door guards moved in, dragging it out into the hallway.

The guards who had been watching each of the Black Eagles moved a little closer now, making sure they couldn't walk off.

Edelgard spoke.

"Please, don't let them frighten you. Only the plotters need to be concerned. I won't let harm come to any of you."

Lysithea spoke out.

"Why isn't someone guarding Professor? What if he's one of them!"

Edelgard shook her head.

"No. I refuse to believe he's one of them."

Linhardt squinted in confusion.

"Belief? That's hardly a sound basis for letting him off."

Edelgard was having none of this.

"No. I was just with him, alone. Besides, this has been going on for months. He just got back."

Linhardt kept pressing.

"What about Lysithea? We just picked her up a few days ago."

She groaned.

"Fine. Lysithea, you don't need to do this either."

Lysithea shoved the guard who had guarder her, walking off to join Edelgard and Byleth atop the dais, before the throne.

"That's better. I like you Edelgard. You wouldn't want to be on my bad side."

Linhardt chuckled.

"Heh. It's funny, the three of you could almost pass as a family up there. Edelgard and the Professor are the mom and dad, Lysithea is..."

She interrupted it.

"Don't you dare. Don't say I'm their daughter!"

He continued.

"...the niece."

The mage looked up from where he had been working in the center of the room.

"I am finished, my master. All that is needed now are the words of power."

The man had scattered the purple dust around in a circle. It must be magically infused. At the 12'o clock, 3'o clock, 6'o clock, and 9'o clock positions on the circle, like a clock, he placed small gems...diamonds?

Edelgard acknowledged him.

"Proceed."

The man clasped his hands together.

"By the power of the ancient powers of this world, through the fallen civilizations that came before us, in the name of Emperor Wilhelm! Spirits, reveal the true nature of these gathered. Show us blind ones the way."

The man fell to his knees, seemingly from exhaustion. He held himself up with one arm gripping his cane. His knuckles were stark white, devoid of blood.

"I...have spent myself for my lady. The ritual succeeded."

They observed as wisps of orange light moved out from the circle towards each of the Black Eagles, pouring out of the diamonds in a circular motion, like a tornado of magical orbs. 

It reminded Edelgard of healing magic, but these wisps moved more naturally. They didn't move in a certain pattern, or traverse to a rhythm…were they alive?

As they circled the black eagles, they formed rough images of each of them. As if they were tracing the bodies of each, painting them.

The mage spoke.

"The wisps can only show the true forms of anyone. The disguises of our enemies cannot hide from them."

Edelgard could see that. The glowing, burning orange lights were sparkling around their friends. As they emitted warm, glittering light, shapes formed. They were rough outlines at first, but as they worked, the images became clearer. 

"Professor, do you think anyone looks suspicious?"

He looked to where Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Linhardt stood.

She kept an eye on Hubert, Caspar, Petra and Bernadetta.

Byleth spoke.

"Ferdinand. Something is wrong with his...shadow? Too large...too feminine?"

Byleth unsheathed his sword, and poised himself to strike down Ferdinand if need be. Jeritza too moved in, his own weapon drawn.

The shade had long hair like Ferdinand, but they were taller than Ferdinand was, and...Byleth peered down. The hips were way too wide to be Ferdinand's. It was difficult to make out a face, but this wasn't the noble son of Aegir.

Ferdinand stepped back, pushing the Guard behind him towards the wall.

"Professor, you don't want to do that, surely. Edelgard, she has obviously lost her mind."

"No, I think I do."

Byleth brought his sword forward, making to uppercut Ferdinand.

A dark, purple ward bounced the attack off of Ferdinand.

Byleth recoiled, slipping his sword back towards himself.

As he did, what had once looked like Ferdinand gradually didn't.

It was like Ferdinand's skin was disappearing, receding from his face.

This person had a slimmer face. They had purple hair. Purple. Just like that Dagon character's.

A broad shouldered woman, a head taller than Byleth stood in front of him.

In a certain light, she'd be beautiful. She had a full figure, but her stature slimmed her a bit. Her hair, kept in two buns on either side of her head gave her a regal look with her sharp jaw. Black lipstick lined her lip in heavy amounts. She had matching black mascara around her eyes, with little black tear drops flowing down from the mascara, right below each pupil. The small back gages on either ear suited her. She wore a flowing black dress. If you could ignore the dry, white skin and white eyes...yeah...she was gorgeous.

"Who are you?"

She huffed, speaking in a posh, foreign accent. It was snooty, like she was holding her nose while she spoke.

"I am Circe. You may have uncovered this ploy of ours, Emperor. But do not think this is the end for us."

Edelgard looked at her.

"Us?"

The Guard who stood behind Petra ran backwards, holding onto a column. Bernadetta, who stood next to her, held onto her Guard's spear.

The Guard spoke frantically, obviously terrified.

"My Emperor! It's Lady Petra!"

Edelgard observed as Petra morphed, from a beautiful warrior and kind friend, to a monster.

This creature, she was around the same height as Petra. Her hair was an unnaturally yellow, like a lemon, and it was done in long dreads that went down to the small of her back. She had greyish skin, eyes like oil with twinkles of gold. She had a tiny, upturned nose, and a little black line that ran along the ridge of it. Her face was wider than Circes, though not quite round. She wore full black leather armor, with a hood, and she wore slip-on boots that could probably travel quietly. She was incredibly short, about as short as Lysithea, and slim.

She spoke quickly, like she was out of time.

"I'm Saturnia. Could we get a move on with this? I have a date with a cute boy...who's body I'm going to steal."

She laughed loudly.

Bernadetta screamed, and ran to the corner of the room, trying to put distance between her and Saturnia.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ppppplease don't steal my body! It's no good! I-I don't work out, I eat cupcakes all day and uh...I have a sinus infection!"

She sniffled, trying to snuff up her nose.

"Ssssee? You'd be much better off with someone else! Not me!"

Saturnia laughed.

"You think I'd want your body? Oh, by the nine rings of hell! Could you imagine how excruciating that would be? Having to pretend to be so mopey all of the time."

Bernadetta stammered, shaking her fists.

"Hey! I am not mopey!"

Saturnia smiled, her lips turning up high.

"I'd prefer...your soul!"

She snarled, showing off clean white fangs. Her teeth looked especially sharp. Had she taken a knife to them, so she'd appear more …more predatory?

Bernadetta shrieked, trying to claw her way up the column that Petra's guard was holding onto.

Edelgard sighed. This was getting to be particularly obscene. 

"Hubert? Could you take care of these people?"

Lysithea tapped on her shoulder.

"I don't think you want that Edelgard, he's...creepy now." 

Edelgard's heart dropped.

Hubert?

In front of her, Hubert, her oldest friend, changed.

He had jagged scars like lightning bolts circling his scalp, and deep purple hair, not unlike Circe's.

Dagon.

He pushed off his guard, just shaking his head as he smirked.

The Guard ran out in front of him, pulling her spear out, trying to stand between him and the dais.

She was stalwart.

"Back off from the Emperor, you monster."

"Oh, that won't do anything woman."

He looked at Edelgard, and then Byleth.

"I questioned, when I met you at our bastion, if you would uncover this plot. It seems I underestimated you girl. I suppose even ants can impress a God sometimes."

Edelgard pressed him.

"You underestimated the Empire's resources. You were arrogant to do so."

"The Empire? The Empire is crumbling, not even you can change that. Not even you and that boy can rewrite history!"

He was looking at Byleth now.

He retorted. Byleth was at his wits end with these people doubting her.

"Edelgard is fully capable of thwarting you. She just did."

Dagon lifted his head up at the ceiling, and sighed.

"You continue to think that, Sword-wielder. It's rich."

Byleth stormed over to the man. Shoving the sword of the creator up, he held it at his throat.

"She could kill you here and now. Any of them could. I know, I trained them."

Dagon held his stomach as he cackled.

"Oh boy, rich, so rich. They're all pathetic besides you, sword-wielder. Especially her. She's the most pathetic, because she believes such concepts as 'friendship' 'imperial majesty' and 'humanism' can save the world. She isn't trying to overthrow the Church for raw power, but for vengeance, and for...'love' she is a worm."

Dagon made a retching noise, as if he found Edelgard's reasons disgusting.

She just stood there, unfazed. Her eyelids were low, but not because she was ready to cry, but because she was unable to look at him without contempt.

Byleth was tired of him.

"Where are they!"

He moved his sword closer. It was now brimming with the power of his crest, lighting up the whole room.

Dagon held out the palm of his hand. Black magic began seeping out of it, pushing the sword away, slowly at first.

Then, he thrust with the full force of his magic.

Byleths body went skating across the room, slamming into Jeritza.

He put his arms under the crook of Byleth's, and tugged him up.

Byleth squirmed away from him.

Jeritza spoke, solemn.

"I was only trying to help."

Byleth ran towards Dagon, his sword outstretched.

The magic was still gathering. It was pouring like clouds. Thick, malignant purple storm clouds shrouded Dagon.

"Where are my students?"

Byleth's whole world was these people now. He had no one, nothing else.

Dagon answered him.

"Derdriu. Hurry! Before their oxygen supply is out!"

Before Byleth could ask a follow-up, he dissipated.

He looked around at the others.

Circe and Saturnia were gone as well.

Byleth felt his ears getting hot.

"We should go."

Edelgard agreed.

"Oh, absolutely. We need to rescue Petra, Hubert, and Ferdinand."

Dorothea pushed past her guard.

"I forgive you for that little number Edie. But next time, could we maybe just check-in with each other? Be honest. Just say 'Dorie, I think you may be a skin-bag slitherer.' That guard was rough with me. I think I sprained an ankle."

The Guard bowed.

"So sorry Lady Dorothea. Apologies."

She shrugged it off.

The others moved in now, in front of Byleth, Lysithea and Edelgard.

She looked around to all of them.

"I apologize for putting you all through this. Is it so unforgiveable? It had to be done."

Lysithea looked to her.

"But you didn't! It would be one thing if you treated us all equally Edelgard, but you just let the Professor go! I appreciate that you let me too, but it's still not fair to the others!"

"I understand your objections. But the Professor helped me...even if I didn't tell him about this."

"You let Jeritza go! He's literally one of them. We all know that!"

Jeritza groaned.

"I am not one of those people. Just because I share this body with the Death Knight."

Edelgard turned to Byleth.

"What should we do to right this?"

Byleth looked at with her a tired expression. It was late, Byleth had skipped dinner, and he was sleepy after their day's journey.

"We, Edelgard? You have to show them there should be no hard feelings."

Edelgard thought about it.

Lysithea kept talking.

"I don't mind, because I know my loyalties are with the Empire, forever. You can't shake me on this. But the Professor wasn't even questioned!"

Edelgard looked over to her mage, who was still standing where the circle had been. The wisps must have used up the resources.

"Do you still have enough to retry the incantation? Could you focus it just on my teacher?"

He pulled another bag out of his sleeve. He sort of smiled about it, seemingly pleased he was of such use.

"I have enough material master. But eh- should we ask permission first? Do you mind, Professor?"

Byleth looked around to the lot of them.

He'd do his part to keep them together. They had to stay united. 

"I'll do it. Does this hurt?"

The man immediately began pouring the dust out.

Bernadetta hugged the Professor.

"Don't worry! It's only a little ticklish!"

Caspar ran his hand through his hair.

"Uh...I don't know about this guys. What if the Professor is allergic? Anyone know the Heimlich?"

Dorothea elbowed him gently.

"Don't worry 'big bro' I picked it up. I'm sure he'll be fine anyways, the Professor is so healthy and virile. Those big biceps and his strong jawline should protect him."

Linhardt lifted his hand up to his chin.

"Medically, I don't think any of that matters."

Lysithea crossed her arms.

"I'm watching this. I want to see what happens, if he's a monster too."

The mage clasped his hands together again.

As he did, the torch lights seemed to dim.

"Silence please. Let me focus. I must summon my last reserves to complete this fully, and there must be no interruption."

After the man had said the words of power again, a whole horde of wisps poured out from the diamonds he had lain out in the circle.

These wisps were practically going in a frenzy.

They were circling around Byleth at a breakneck pace, they made a direct beeline to him.

Glowing dust was showering him, practically soaking him in magical power.

The whole room was alight with the magic, all of them looking into the orange light.

Linhardt started to lift up his sleeves.

"Is anyone else hot in here? I feel so overheated."

Jeritza was holding his arms out to the ceiling, basking in the light.

"It feels so...comforting. This is unlike anything I've ever experienced before."

Was Jeritza...happy? What effect was this having on him? Something was different about this ritual than the last one.

Byleth's body was almost burning, it was like his body was on fire. He wasn't wincing in pain, but it looked like he was on fire.

Dorothea squinted, putting a hand over her face.

"It's kind of hard to see, he's shining so bright...but...my word. I see a girl."

Caspar agreed.

"She's really pretty."

Linhardt was also entranced.

"She's not just beautiful, she's perfect."

One of the Guardsmen in the back, standing behind the throne, dropped to his knees.

A necklace, with the crest of Seiros fell out from beneath his armor.

"The Goddess. He's the Goddess. By Sothis."

Edelgard didn't see that at all.

When Edelgard looked at her teacher she just saw him.

She tried to squint, to make sure she was seeing him right.

No, there was something off about him. But he wasn't a girl.

The Professor stood before her, an orange shade of him glowing around him as the wisps kept on turning.

But...

"Does anyone else see him wearing a crown? It's a golden laurel wreath crown..."

Shining on his head, Edelgard's eyes were honed in on that crown.

Dorothea shook her head.

"No, sorry Edie. I just see this gorgeous girl in front of me. I don't see the Professor at all."

Edelgard kept looking at it.

Was she the only one actually seeing the Professor, and, if so...

Why was he wearing a crown?

Bernadetta piped up.

"Hey Edelgard? A laurel wreath crown? Isn't that what an Adrestian groom wears on his wedding night."

Edelgard bit down on her tongue.

Yes, it was...

And the only groom allowed to don golden laurel, punishable by death, is a consort of the Emperor, on his wedding night...

According to the Imperial Code of Canon Practice, ICCP 232: 'The groom should be bathed in fine oils, extracts of the fields. From the greatest silk from the oldest silk moth tree in Varley his grooms suit should be woven. A crown of golden laurel should be fashioned for him. This alone is the appropriate attired of a consort of the Imperial harem. It is illegal for any but him to wear it, subject to death, for the golden-crowned groom belongs to the Emperor alone.'

She remembered reading through that section of the canon. Her father thought it might mean something to her, so he expected her to study it.

That was a really archaic law, Edelgard had to remember to abolish it...

She had to be seeing things. The crown was just orange, yes orange. Not gold...it probably just meant that the Professor was someone important, which he certainly was.

"I think I was seeing things. It's not golden Bernadetta."

"Oh? I don't see it anyways. You're the only one I think...ooo. I hope that didn't make you feel awkward! It probably just means you're special Edelgard!"

Yes, 'special'. She was special. Edelgard sighed, disappointed.

Lysithea grumbled.

"Well, I guess this must mean the Professor isn't a suspect. This girl doesn't look evil, even if I'm confused why these little wisps are showing us her. Is she a ghost?"

Byleth walked out of the wisps, dust settling on his shoulders, still shining.

"You have some explaining to do Professor. Who was that?"

Byleth already knew who it was they saw. Who else could it have been?

"The Goddess lives in me."

Lysithea counter-questioned.

"In you? What does that mean? I'm afraid I'm not following."

He looked around, searching all of their eyes, to gauge their reactions.

"She and I, Sothis...we are one."

"H-How though? She's the Goddess... she's supposed to live in the sky or something...right?"

Byleth didn't know why. It had always been like this. How was he supposed to know why Sothis was renting his head?

"No. I don't know how, but we're one. I knew her as Sothis, before I even knew she was the Goddess."

Edelgard cautiously reached out to his chest with her left hand.

"My teacher, you should consider it might have to do with your scar."

Byleth put his hand over hers, letting her feel his chest muscle, where the scar lay.

"You might be right."

Edelgard let him go.

"If you were crested by someone as a child, then your rights were violated. I know we're all concerned about our friends. But assuming Dagon wasn't lying, we need to press on to Derdriu- for everyone who's been wronged by this worlds rulers, and for our friends."

Linhardt yawned as he moaned, pressing his eyelids together and stretching.

"Does this mean we have to actually have that meeting now? The warmth Professor gave off was really relaxing."

Lysithea tugged on his arm, yanking his sleeve.

"Yes we do Linhardt! We have people to save, a war to win!"

"Ugh...stop tugging! You'll tear the seams. Just...just tell the Guards I was one of them...I'm evil. Lock me up in a cell...leave me a cot."

Edelgard watched as Dorothea tried to break them up.

She wanted them all here. They were all so...good. 

Edelgard turned her head towards the window. She couldn't see Derdriu from here, but she knew it was in the distance.

It was somewhere out there...he was somewhere out there.

Edelgard closed her eyes, focusing on the last image of Hubert she had in her head. 

She saw him, playing with her as a child, walking through the palace together. 

She couldn't give up on him, she had to believe he was fine. This couldn't be the last act of Hubert and Edelgard. He had to see their new world order come to fruition.

Hubert had to be alive.


	8. Field of Ghosts

Ferdinand slid his eyes open, from another unsatisfying sleep.

He stared up at the damp wooden beams of the ship's ceiling, the roof of their prison, observing as a drop of dark seawater dripped down onto his forehead, and down the ridge of his nose. His arms were tied, rendering him unable to flick it away. 

The Almyran's were singing some sort of sea-shanty, to the tune of a low drum, something to their keep spirits up as they sailed.

♫ A-home, a-home, a-home ♫, the darkness may consume me, but I'm never going ♫ a-home. A-dum dum dum! The nightmare of the long begone may see me, but I'm never going ♫ a-home, a-home, a-home ♫. A-dum dum dum! Dark spell befall me, dark prince be-ruin me, fallen God be mad at me, but I'm never going ♫ A-home, a-home, a-home ♫. A-dum dum dum! We are Almyran's, sent from Triste so we never can go ♫ A-home, a-home, a-home ♫. 

The son of House Aegir tried to stay strong. He knew a nobleman must, but it was all so much to bear.

He looked to either of his companions beside him.

Petra sat across from him, her arms tied with rope wrapped around a metal ring nailed to the side of the ship.

Her composure was impressive.

The two of them had been taken after their battle at the Great Bridge of Myrddin. They had been walking past the stables. She wanted to see the horses, and he took her into his favorite horse's stall. Then...

Ferdinand winced. His head had a simmering, stinging pain towards the back. Someone must have slammed a shovel into his skull. 

Petra had been attacked right alongside him, neither had a moment to respond. She took it in stride though.

She sat there, upright, still smiling. Petra's smile brought him some sort of respite. But she just sat there quietly, without a word. 

"Petra, how is it you are so resilient? I admire you for your bravery."

She bobbed her head, her purple hair drooping over, the tips dipping into the ankle-deep water at the bottom of the brig.

"It is not bravery I am having Ferdinand. It is faith. I cannot be giving up on our Professor, or Edelgard."

Ferdinand had faith in them But that didn't explain how she was so calm despite the gravitas of their situation. 

"But aren't you scared? It would be completely understandable if you were."

She smiled even wider now somehow.

"It is not needed to be afraid. In Brigid, there were many times my family was threatened. I even have been having attacks on my life before. Ferdinand...I...fear only makes sense if you are not knowing...do not know...do not understand. I understand, so I don't know fear. Are you afraid?"

"I've never been abducted before, but as a noble, I always knew it was possible. My family has always been a target. This is upsetting, but it is not surprising to me."

"What about Hubert? He seems not to be understanding."

Ferdinand craned his head over to Hubert.

Hubert was slouched over in his ropes next to Ferdinand.

Hubert wasn't with them when they were taken...

But...and this made Ferdinand's head hurt...

He looked like he had been here longer. Way longer. Ferdinand had seen Hubert just hours before they were kidnapped. Did this mean that hadn't been Hubert?

Hubert's skin was of a greenish-yellow shade. His cheeks were shallow and his eyes were hollow. His hair was dry, while his skin had an oily sheen.

He was obviously ill.

Ferdinand reached out, tapping his head on Hubert's back since he couldn't with his hands.

"Hey, Hubert. How are you...?"

Hubert just groaned.

"Lady...Edelgard."

Ferdinand squinted. 

Hubert looked atrocious, he was an absolute wreck. Ferdinand supposed, under such extreme stress, even someone as strong as Hubert could break. There was no shame in it, it was just unfortunate.

He moaned again.

"I...I failed...I should have listened to you, my Lady."

Hubert had been on about a 'betrayal' and something about Edelgard's Uncle the whole time. As soon as he saw them brought down in the ship, Hubert went on about something, but he never fully explained what. 

It seemed possible to Ferdinand, that somehow, their 'allies' had done this.

Edelgard was a fool to trust 'those who slither in the dark' as Hubert referred to them. Ferdinand had advised against continuing a relationship with them, but she would not take heed of his warning.

He could only hope that their friends were safe, and only the three of them were stolen away.

If Ferdinand had known, maybe he could've advised on whatever problem Hubert was so worried-sick about.

Ferdinand understood that he and Edelgard weren't as close as Hubert... let alone the Professor and her. She adored them.

He could tell when the three of them rode out in front of the army. Hubert on her left, the Professor to her right. His horse usually trotted rather close to hers. Edelgard would lean into their Professor, and they chatted privately together, about what, he couldn't say.

Edelgard always kept them close to her. She seemed happier with their presence. 

But even if they weren't the best of friends, Ferdinand wanted to be of use to her. She needed an advisor who would be honest with her.

Ferdinand had been spending much of his free-time...as in all of his time...contemplating how he could be a better help to Edelgard, and hopefully a better friend. Chained to a ship, seawater lapping at your feet, offered one a lot of time to consider things besides one's current predicament.

Ferdinand knew the most important thing he could do for Edelgard, is be her advisor, not her friend. But if it were necessary to be her friend to earn her confidence, then that mattered too.

Dorothea's slight against him still stung.

What ever did she mean by saying he was like a bee ?

He had to know. Maybe he could ask Petra? She was kind, Petra wouldn't insult him.

"Hey, Petra, do you think you could explain to me what Dorothea meant by an insult she gave me. I didn't understand it when she told me it."

"I am not good with explaining...you may need to explain what the words mean to me if I am to be helping you."

"Don't worry, I will. It's just, I do not think Dorothea is pleased with me."

"Does this matter? Dorothea is a great friend to me, but do you need her to be pleased with you?"

"Yes, it does. I am not comfortable being hated by her."

"Be honest Ferdinand. Why?"

"Does there need to be a reason Petra? As I see it, it is only natural that we should all be friends after all of this spent together."

"Oh. I am seeing. You are lovely Ferdinand, I am sure she must also like you."

Ferdinand's demeanor perked up.

"Really? Has she told you such?"

"Well, no. Actually, Dorothea is not having much to say about you."

Ferdinand's lips turned down, into a frown.

"She said I behave like a bee. I didn't understand the reference. I thought it was a compliment initially, but her reaction was not positive. I do not want to be a bee if that is bad."

"What is a bee, Ferdinand?"

"It's...well...it's yellow and black. It's an insect. It has a stinger."

She looked even more confused.

"An...an insect? I think I know what is. But what is...what is a stinger? Does that hurt?"

Hubert turned over in his restraints, slumping towards Ferdinand now. He moaned loudly

"Ugh...it is not so painfully obvious to you? She's saying you're uptight! You're boring! In Wilhelm's name, why did you ask the woman who can barely speak our language that question?"

Ferdinand recoiled, as far his own ropes would let him away from Hubert. His eyes were wide, and he had a shocked expression on his face.

He had never seen Hubert like this.

"Uptight? What does that have to do with a bee?"

Hubert blinked once, for a long moment, then, sighing, responded.

"A bee is born with a stinger up its back. You were born with a stick up your-."

Petra interrupted him.

"Hubert. That is enough. We are all sure of what you are meaning. Even I know that is not a compliment."

Ferdinand understood alright.

He had thought that maybe Dorothea disliked him because he was a lay-a-bout noble. So he had tried to show her he was not lazy. It was so difficult, baking all of those foods from scratch. But he was proud of his work.

But she thought he was...boring?

Ferdinand had to know.

"Why does Dorothea think that I am uptight?"

He addressed Hubert this time.

Hubert looked blankly into space, not even looking directly at him.

"Ferdinand. You spend all of your time bothering Lady Edelgard with your silly antics."

"But I am merely trying to help."

"I'm not arguing with you about this now."

Hubert was now looking at the bow of the ship, behind Ferdinand. Did he not even know where he was, or who he was even talking to?

"You never, ever, spend time doing anything but your work."

"That is merely because of the fact that I am trying to do my duty-."

"Ferdinand. Cut it, I am not in any mood for your pestilent notions of honor. If this is you, then I suppose you can't change it. But if it bothers you so much that Dorothea hates you, then you must change. I don't know why you care so much. I actually admire your work ethic, I just wish it was devoted to something more vital to the Empire."

"I could say the same of your work-ethic. I do not wish to change who I am, I cannot change myself. But...maybe there is some way, to prove to Dorothea, that I am...fun?"

Hubert laughed, his face upturned towards the sky.

"Ha! I hope we all live to see you try. Dorothea is a difficult nut to crack."

Hubert gave a satisfying grunt.

"Good luck."

Hubert finally sat up now in his chains, slouching upright. His feet were just touching the first beam on the other side of the ships, at the floor.

They all sat there, silent.

Drips of water dropped on their heads as the Almyrans danced above to the beat of their own drums, with grog sloshing around in their bellies as the sea sloshed.

There was nothing left to discuss when nothing ever happened here.

Ferdinand just wanted to return to the Empire he loved, to see the expansive, rolling hills of olive trees in Aegir, planted as they were in a row alongside the stone roadways.

He wanted to be able to learn from the Professor again.

He wanted to be of use.

He wanted to have fun with his friends, including Dorothea.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lysithea raised her hand, four playing cards in it over Linhardt's head.

"Go-fish! I got go-fish! I win again!"

He looked at the cards.

They were four matching cards, "Emperor of Flames" the cards had little drawings of an Emperor on them, Edelgard's Father in this deck, drawn in cursive, flowy black ink, against a red card blank. Beside him, in the top right corner, was drawn a crest of flames. It was an Adrestian deck. Some had Wilhelm on them, Linhardt had a deck at home with Edelgard on them. She was embarrassed by those. Linhardt didn't get why. They were a nice stack of cards. Why did it matter if her face was on some of them?

He was stuck in the back of the convey, in a wooden horse-pulled cart. Two white stocky horses with black splotches around their hindquarters were carrying them. A stocky carriage driver, with dark brown hair and a chest-long beard, guided them. There was no tarp over the cart, so Linhardt could see as they passed mountains, located in Daphnel territory to the West. Even here, the Oghma range stood high, well above the clouds. Though it was still early morning, most of the sun was already blocked behind them. Trace sunbeams made it over the mountains, lighting the fields they traveled through. To the east, they were bordered by the rivers of Gloucester land. Before Linhardt had gotten into crests, as a young boy he liked geography. He grew tired of it, after he had memorized every rock formation in Fódlan.

They were keeping the rear of the convey, a full battalion behind them. Caspar kept on his horse just before them, urging the men on with war chants and the occasional joke. 

"That is indeed go-fish. Good job."

Lysithea lay her hand of cards down, slipping them back into the deck.

"Linhardt, that's the tenth round of go-fish we've played. Is there anything else we could try?"

"I'm bored as well. Hmm...there is one game we could try playing...but you're not going to like it."

"Then why are you suggesting it? Why wouldn't I like it?"

"You'll probably find it scary."

"I doubt it."

"Fear is a very natural reaction. If you don't feel fear in the face of danger, that means you're...well...what's a polite way to describe it...foolish. Yes, it's foolish to not feel afraid."

Lysithea answered guardedly, preparing to tell him no.

"What is this game?"

"Oh it's quite simple really. It's called 'Torturous Titanus'. You just repeat the name 'Torturous Titanus' six times, in-between saying 'bloody, bloody, bloody' six times, and then you throw a gold coin. I have a coin right here in my pocket."

Linhardt reached into his pocket, pulling out an Adrestian gold coin, with the bust of Edelgard on one side, the Imperial double-headed eagle on the other. At the bottom of the coin, below her head, it said "From Ignorance's Chains, To Freedom, We Go."

"See? Right here?"

"What kind of game is that Linhardt? What even is the point to saying all of those things? It sounds creepy."

"Oh? Supposedly if you say it, Titanus shows up and steals your crest. You offer him a gold coin so he only takes the crest..."

"He...comes? Like...as a ghost? No, sorry, I can't do that. Why would we even want to play this?"

"But oh, that's just a legend. It isn't factual. The truth is far more boorish."

She gave him a cautious glare.

"What is the truth then Linhardt?"

"He was just some ancient King of Dagda. A terrible one at that. But he can't hurt you, he's dead. Hardly someone to be afraid of. Although like I said, it is normal to be afraid. I just don't know why you would be of this. It's just an entertaining social experiment."

Lysithea reached for his hand, robbing him of the coin.

"I'll do it. But you had better participate! I'm not doing this alone. Don't be a wimp."

Linhardt spoke incredulously. 

"I was the one who wanted to play...oh well, it isn't worth the argument."

Linhardt closed his eyes.

He waited for a minute.

The cart creaked and jolted up as it hit a pothole.

He peeked, sliding an eye open a crack.

She was sitting there, eyes open, her hands on her lap.

"Lysithea? Close your eyes. You're supposed to close them."

"Whatever."

They both closed their eyes, their only sense they were still in the world given by way of the warm sun against their necks, and the slight bumps of the cart against the long and straight old imperial road.

Linhardt coughed.

"I'll start...just follow my lead."

He continued, saying the words:

"Torturous Titanus, Torturous Titanus, Torturous Titanus."

Lysithea began to say the words with him.

"Bloody, bloody, bloody."

"Torturous Titanus, Torturous Titanus, Torturous Titanus."

They said the last words together.

"Bloody, bloody, bloody."

Lysithea tossed the coin out of the cart, letting it roll against the road behind them with her eyes still glued shut.

As she sat there, she could feel as someone gripped her shoulders and...

Lysithea jumped up, right out of her seat.

"Titanus! It's Titanus! You can't have my crest you creep! Linhardt! Get the Professor! Edelgard!"

She looked around, from side to side.

The carriage driver was laughing hysterically, slapping his thigh with a free hand, while holding the reins with the other.

"Sorry miss. I couldn't resist."

She scowled.

"That was mean of you! Ugh! Linhardt!"

Linhardt, who hadn't been laughing, looked to where she stood now.

"What? I didn't do it. He accepted responsibility, I heard that much."

"Well this is your fault. It was your stupid game."

"I'm sorry that my game led you being frightened."

She blushed.

"I wasn't frightened, I... thanks for apologizing. Even if your games are stupid kid games."

"Torturous Titanus? That is because it's well known across all of Fódlan. Although, I don't think most people realize its origins anymore. Some scholars suggest he might have ruled before even the Empire was founded."

"Huh. That's kind of interesting. What was so terrible about him?"

Linhardt slid his hand upon his cheek, resting on it while he thought about it, and rubbed his nostril.

"Hmmm, I'm not quite sure, but based on the game, he likely stole people's crests. The practice of removing crests, or trying to acquire one, is well established in the relevant literature on them."

"Why would you have me play that then? You know how much I worry about mine."

"No I didn't. You never told me that. I'll keep it in mind from now on."

Caspar, who had been riding alongside them this whole time, urged his horse on towards the side of the cart, but he had his eyes trained behind down, down the road.

"Uh...guys. Not to interrupt, but does anything seem off to you about those soldiers behind us?"

The three of them looked at the battalion behind them.

The soldiers were standing still, in the center of the road, looking around aimlessly.

"I didn't order them to halt. They just stopped."

Lysithea called out to them, cupping her hands around her mouth.

"Hey! Hey, you troops! Is something the matter?"

They waited for a few moments before calling again, keeping their ears open.

None of the soldiers said anything. It was like none of them heard her. 

Linhardt spoke.

"Something is definitely wrong. This is not normal behavior. But what?"

Lysithea answered.

"The food was fine."

Then Caspar spoke.

"I know they all slept. I make sure everyone is rearing to go for any battle."

Linhardt answered both of them.

"Neither of those things could be it, for all of them to just be tired or sick? It wouldn't make sense. It has to be something able to impact all of them. Hmm. I can't think of it right now. Caspar, maybe blow your war-horn?"

"But Hubert told me not to blow that except in battle..."

"Caspar, Hubert isn't here. We don't even know if he's alive, and there isn't a battle."

Caspar wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"I just...wanted to keep his memory alive for as long I could...but I can blow it I guess."

Caspar reached for his side, where the horn was strapped to his steed's saddlebag.

The war horn was fashioned of black ebony wood, with etchings of great war heroes of Fódlan.

He blew it in the general direction of the battalion. The horn sounded loud, booming off the side of the mountains and bouncing back towards the river.

Linhardt put his hands over his ears.

"Urghh. How is anyone trying to sleep supposed to with that thing blaring?"

As the sound reached the soldiers, they finally seemed to move, marching again.

One of them shouted back to Caspar.

"Hey boss! Why are you ringing that? We're right here aren't we?"

Caspar answered them.

"You stopped. What was that for?"

"Huh?"

The soldier stared dumbly, his mouth wide open enough for a bug to fly in.

Caspar ignored him, looking past them. He had his hand over his brow like a shade against the sun.

"Hey, I had some weird beans for breakfast today, but there was a battalion or two behind them, right?"

Linhardt shook his head.

"No, I can't believe that. Where would they have gone? They know deserting is a crime."

"They were all so excited to be fighting under Edelgard and the Professor. None of them were deserters...couldn't be."

Lysithea sat down, this time on the same side as Linhardt.

She continued to look behind the rolling cart, but she was leaning into Linhardt now.

"Linhardt? Caspar? I don't know this army like either of you do..."

Linhardt interrupted her.

"Actually...only Caspar. I never listen during our battle planning. I always sit near Jeritza so I can hide behind his back and nap. I do listen- in case someone wants me. They never do."

"Just listen! I...I don't know this army that well...but...this has to be something nefarious."

Linhardt spoke.

"Is that why you're sitting next to me?"

She turned away from the battalion now.

"It's only natural to be scared right?"

Linhardt nodded.

"That is what I said. I think it's best if we just move on from it."

Caspar pulled onto the side of the cart, jumping off his horse. 

He still held his horse's reins in his hand. He tied the reins around the support railing that kept them all from falling off the cart.

He sat down on the opposite side of Linhardt from Lysithea, leaning back with one arm behind his friend, the other outstretched towards the front of the cart.

"Sorry for shaking up the party guys. I think I'd feel less weirded out from that missing battalion if I was near Linhardt too."

Lysithea wore a welcoming, nonchalant barely-there smile. Her hair was blowing in the wind, and her eyes were bright.

"He is rather comfortable"

Caspar squirmed, resting his head on Linhardt's arm.

"Yeah, he is. I can get why you like naps so much now Linhardt. This would be a great position for one."

Linhardt looked to either of them.

"What me? Why is either of you trusting me to protect you? I can barely fight, and I refuse to move from this seat."

Lysithea sneered.

"Why Linhardt, you're the tallest of the three of us. If some monster attacks our cart, they'll want you."

"I suppose I would make the most filling meal for a monster...carry on then. Just don't interrupt my nap with yours, Caspar."

Linhardt turned back towards the back the cart.

He had to do a double-check.

The man who had answered them earlier...was he missing? What was wrong with them? Where had he walked off? 

It was like they were under some sort of spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, now with 50% more Linhardt. 
> 
> The battle of Derdriu is coming up, this was just set-up for that. I hope no one was too upset that Edelgard and Byleth don't even make a mention in this chapter. They can't be the center of all of the attention now, can they? 
> 
> If you liked the story so far or just want to be nice, feel free to leave a kudo and or comment. I appreciate the feedback.


	9. For The Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has traveled with several legions of the Adrestian Legion to Derdriu.
> 
> Unaware of the particular danger that lies ahead of him, Byleth will be brought to his knees, and the Emperor will find herself standing alone.
> 
> In the end, does Byleth have the will to overcome the curse on his head or has the cunning Riegan outsmarted them?

Marianne stood above the city of Derdriu, on the highest point of the old Church to the Goddess. The walls of the Church were made of crumbling small beige-colored beach rocks set in mortar, with blue, grey, green, and yellow-colored stained glass depicting scenes of fishermen, ships, and forest animals lining the sidewalls, set in stone arches. It had smooth stone buttresses to prop up the building for support on its two long sides, and a bell tower at the front. The bell was kept under a copper-roofed spire.

She stood on the wooden platform where the bell would rest if it was here. The Church had been abandoned for a far larger one, just outside of the city's walls. The bell had been taken to it, rather than forging a brand new one. Marianne liked this place. It was quiet, and the birds liked to gather around the edge of the bell tower. Some of them were here with her. They knew it was still a nice place.

The Church was positioned at the back of Riegan Square, opposite the mansion district. She could see the city's front gates from here, down the street, in the distance, past the wealthy district, to where most of the people lived, at the outskirts.

Marianne lamented, whimpering softly.

The scroll was in her hands, rolled up like she had received it from Claude. It was sort of bent out of shape. Marianne had accidentally left it on her bed when she went to sleep yesterday and tossed and turned over it.

She wanted to make Claude happy. She knew he had worked so hard on this, for all of their sakes. But she had been up contemplating this.

Those...people he bought it off of. Claude had to make a day's journey just to find them. They claimed it would be harmless to the Professor. They insisted it would only confuddle him, render him unable to hurt any of them.

Claude said they were really off-putting. When he asked them to get comfy, they insisted on keeping their black hoods over their heads.

There was just something about this Marianne found worrisome. It made her feel sorry enough thinking of what she had done to those poor soldiers. Marianne could not even begin to guess who Claude had gotten this from. She didn't even need to be in the same dukedom as the soldiers to curse them. All she had to do was think of some Adrestian soldier in her mind, anyone, and many of them would be impacted. She took solace that none of them would be hurt, but were they bound to be forever mindless? Zombies? 

What she was doing to the Professor was so much eviler. It was a stronger iteration of the same spell, it required he be close to her. 

She thought though, of how disappointed everyone might be with her if she didn't do anything.

She supposed she had no choice in the matter.

Marianne unrolled the creased paper.

She had to do a double-check, looking over what she saw again.

Written on the scroll, were words of power, meant to instruct in forging the hex. All she had to do, according to the people Claude acquired the scroll from, was say the words on it while thinking of the Professor. She had to keep a vision in her head of him.

Whatever these words were, they weren't familiar to Marianne. This had to be some foreign language. She wished she knew. Then again, maybe Marianne didn't. All of this was terrifying to her.

She looked forward, at the walls.

The wall of Derdriu rose as one of the taller features of the city, shadowing over the middle-class housing closest to it, but the tallest towers of the mansions peeked over it.

People were sending ropes up, climbing it.

Now or never Marianne, your last chance.

Marianne huffed, holding out the scroll.

She put Professor Byleth into her brain. He had to be close.

She saw him as he used to be. When he was just a Professor, not Edelgard's General. She visioned him standing in the Monastery's Cathedral, just behind her, where she prayed with her hands closed in prayer to the Goddess.

He didn't pray, but he kept her company. 

She smiled.

When he first came to the Monastery, he was willing to pray with her. As time went on...he stopped. He still visited her, sometimes when she was praying. But he didn't seem interested in it anymore. 

Marianne didn't judge him for that. Maybe he felt guilt for some choice he had made, something he had done. 

Even though he was the Black Eagles Professor, he was kind to all of them, including Marianne.

He found her lost shoe once. Helped her up onto the horses... he even fed the stray kittens prowling about the monastery.

It was terrible that they all weren't together anymore.

She said those ancient words of power, words she didn't comprehend. The language was guttural and demanding. It took the breath out of her lungs to utter...and yet...while she did not know the words meaning...these were sad words. The language itself, sounded solemn as if the people who devised this language were blue about something.

Marianne felt a rumbling coming from deep in the earth, that bubbled like some boiling viscous liquid. It was like the crescendo of bones rattling until they reached a climax, booming.

Whatever it was, it was here.

Marianne lost her balance, dropped to the ground.

She skid across the platform, backing away on her hands and knees. She cowered under the wooden support beam that held up the spire.

A white, bleached white, being pulled itself up out of the floor on which she sat.

It was a beast, as a snarling boar overcome by malevolent forces. Razor fangs wrapped around their open maw. They had a strip of mangy fur down their broad, arched back.

Marianne loved animals, but this was a monster.

She could see their veins through the white flesh, pumping red blood.

She murmured to herself.

"Is this a demon?"

They were small, maybe the size of a bunny. Marianne could see straight through its body.

As it rose out of the floor, white puffs of smoke billowed out around it, and it roared, snarling. Its roar was like that of a gorilla, but much lower than any creature Marianne had ever listened to before.

Could anyone but she hear them?

This hadn't happened the first time she used the hex against the soldiers. What was going to happen to Professor Byleth? What had she done wrong now?

The beasts paddled towards her, moving closer. Its curved black claws scratched the floor as it skittered around the Belltower on its paws.

Marianne spoke to it, softly, calmly. She did this as she tried to back further into the corner. Maybe it was only ugly, not mean?

"He-hello little one. Good boy. Can we be friends?"

They jumped on her. She closed her eyes, and his her face between her hands prepared to be bitten. But instead, it ran through Marianne. She felt it for only a moment before they ran right off the side of the belltower. The feeling was like having her heart snatched away. She felt it physically rip away her heart, stealing it, and yet, when she felt the spot where her heart should be, it was there.

Marianne watched as it flew in a straight line like an arrow towards the city walls. This could not be an animal. It had to be something unnatural.

She could feel it pass into her, wanting to bring her with it over the edge. It wanted her with them. It was like it had bound itself to her. 

Marianne shouldn't have done that. 

She clutched her hands.

Dear Goddess...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth crouched in the tree line, with Caspar to his left, Edelgard to his right, and Linhardt directly behind him. 

They stood before the city of Derdriu. The radiant beams of the sun bounced off of the deep blue waters of the cities harbor, dazzling men, women, and seagull alike with its view. Canals for boats to dock in stretched out like the branches of a tree. The air smelt fresh, with undertones of salt. There was a wind heading in from Sreng to the northwest that was chilling, but pleasant. Most shops and houses of the city were of a middle-class size, not massive fortresses of stone and terracotta roofing, nor hovels. They were fashioned mostly of wood, some of red stone. The larger stone buildings had copper roofs, that were at a high-pitch so they poked the sky with their steeples. Those at the center of the city were green from patina, the newer ones still a bright orange copper. White salt from the air settled near the gutters of the high roofs of Derdriu. The less impressive homes had simple thatch roofing. Derdriu was a beautiful city. Hopefully, it wouldn't all be leveled today.

Linhardt's hands were already raised in a spell-casting position. Edelgard and Caspar had their arms at the ready.

Edelgard spoke softly.

"Linhardt, are you ready for this? You need to try at least to keep as many of us healthy as we scale the walls."

"Prepared? Yes. Ready to spend the next several hours of my life running halfway across a city trying to keep you all alive? No."

Caspar reached back, slapping his friend on the back.

"Come on Linhardt! Get in the mood! This is a battle for the ages! People will write battle chants for us!

Linhardt gave a sarcastic wince.

"Chants? I'd prefer a somber piece, like an opera. Maybe a lullaby. 'the Lullaby of Linhardt' has a certain ring to it."

Linhardt closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as he relished the dream of a lullaby.

Edelgard rolled her eyes.

"Could you both stop this immediately? Both of you will be staying with me. You need supervision."

Caspar bemoaned that, throwing his arms up.

"What did I do? I was just trying to get Linhardt excited! He's the one being lazy."

"You need someone to keep an eye on you, so you don't run off ahead of the rest of us."

Byleth wasn't giving them his attention. His eyes were on the wall before them. Most of his work had been in chasing down bandits, tracking down a few kidnapped Princes. But he had scaled a few walls. That was the riskiest business of a battle of this magnitude for a besieger. Edelgard had her spies, who let them in on the cities defenses and layout. But he needed a first-hand look at the place.

He looked over the walls until his eyes stopped at the tower nearest them.

Byleth gripped her shoulder, pulling her gaze towards the direction he was looking in.

"Look. That tower. Straight ahead"

He pointed to a tall red sandstone tower that stood above the city's walls. The sun was blaring through the open top of the tower, where soldiers, donning the colors of the Alliance, were standing.

She looked to where he was pointing.

"That soldier, to the far right? Is he holding a cauldron?"

Byleth nodded.

"Probably boiling pitch. That touches any of our skin- we'll burn up. Might not die, but won't be fighting much either."

Caspar spoke.

"Could it be something else, Professor? Something less harmful?"

Byleth responded.

"He could be readying us a bubble bath, but that isn't likely."

Edelgard spoke next, after chuckling a bit.

"Leave it to Claude. He's had time to prepare for us. Linhardt? Do you think you can knock that soldier down?"

"Why can't we ask Bernadetta or Dorothea?"

"Linhardt, could you pretend to care? They're on the other end of the front, dealing with the same problem. You're here. Do it. That's an order."

He shook her off, readying his hands. They were now pulsing with red magic. The magic itself was brimming with anger. It was fast-moving, unlike white or yellow healing magic, faster than a hummingbird, and jolts of fire burst up out of his palm, begging to be released. It was virulent, potent.

It was like holding a forest fire in his hand.

"Alright. I'll do it because I am convinced you'd turn violent if I don't. You didn't need to turn this into a command. Is this the right form, Professor? I'm not used to using this strain of magics."

Byleth gave him a once over.

He reached out to grab Linhardt's arm around the wrist and point it higher at an angle, so his hand was raised above his head.

"If you fired a healing spell at a lower angle as you had it just then, you'd just heal whoever is in front of you. If you did so with fire magic, you'd burn my clothes off."

He stepped back, checking Linhardt's stance.

He had given Linhardt lessons on this before. He knew that almost all of their training sessions together were spent on the healing arts, but even a healer needed an arsenal. On some occasions, it was Linhardt who struck the fatal blow against an enemy. Those were rare circumstances, but they happened.

Byleth crouched down, and reaching for Linhardt's right leg, tugged it backward, so Linhardt adopted a battle pose.

"Always put one leg back. It gives you more reach. Adopt the pose of a fighting crane...or in your case, I guess a lion. They sleep a lot."

"I didn't think reach mattered with a spell. I can send my healing spells much further than the distance between that soldier and me."

"It matters when you're trying to lob it at someone who doesn't want you to. You need to throw it at him, so he can't step aside easily."

Byleth stood back up.

"Now just wait to hit it. Get this right. You can save lives, so please care about."

"You think I don't care? I told you before, my constitution is weak, so I take it easy. I'm not uncaring...totally."

Linhardt looked at the man over the pot of boiling pitch with one eye closed, too scared to see, and the other too scared not to peek.

Edelgard raised her arm up.

"Linhardt. At my order, shoot that man down, and we rush the walls."

She stood still behind the magnolia and oak trees, which had moss growing off of them like mangy hair, down to the ground. The forest floor below them was dirt, with a blanket of dead leaves. They kept far enough back so their advanced party still wasn't visible, the soldiers behind them instructed to keep silent.

Claude had to know they were coming. But she had taken precautions so he wouldn't know they were here now. It was difficult to miss a marching army. But she felt confident their entrance would at least be a surprise.

Edelgard ordered him, quietly still.

"Now Linhardt. Get it over with!"

He closed both eyes now, letting the magic fly where it would.

Byleth clutched his metaphorical pearls. His sword hilt.

Linhardt should've kept his eyes open, Byleth thought to himself.

The ball of fire missed its mark.

Caspar thrust his fist into the air.

"Yeah yahhhh Linhardt! Wooohooo! That was awesome! Kind of gruesome, but amazing!"

Edelgard boomed.

"March! Now!"

Down the line, the commander who had welcomed Byleth back home, Randolf, screamed.

"Onward! For your Emperor! A Hresvelg leads us!"

The men roared as they sprinted, jostling their weapons above their heads.

"For the cause!"

Byleth ran with them, looking up at the fiasco atop the nearest tower.

Linhardt's fireball had missed the soldier but struck the pitch. When fire meets oil...

Well, the pitch had exploded out of its pot from the force of the impact. The men were all burning, screaming as they struggled not to run into each other, trying to extinguish the blaze and save themselves from immolating. They were knocking over each other, like pins in a bowling lane. One of them tripped over his comrades rolling on the ground trying to stamp out the fire, falling straight over the edge of the tower. He dropped in front of Byleth as the Adrestian line advanced.

Soldiers rolled hefty brass mortar cannons up to the frontline, firing ropes armed with harpoon hooks up the walls. The hooks hitched to the heights of the walls, smashing stone. A mass of red and black began scaling the wall, their numbers swelling on the Derdriu's walls. The archers of House Reigan launched arrows, dipped in flaming pitch at them, firey arrows grazing the legs of soldiers or the heads of the unlucky. As soldiers fell off the walls, Linhardt sent orbs of magic brimming with rejuvenating essence back at them, giving the men the strength to make another go for it, not giving in.

From behind him, a soldier shot a rope up.

The harpoon's hook, made for tugging a boat or hauling a whale's carcass slung around a parapet and dug into the wall.

Byleth took hold of the rope, Edelgard just behind him as they all made their one chance into the city without every guard trying to push them back down.

As Byleth climbed, he felt the sense Sothis was with him, at the front of his head.

He could tell because he had a mild sensation of warmth in that spot. Before she spoke, he usually had a warm tingling spread across his forehead.

He kept climbing.

It was a high wall, though not the tallest he had ever seen either. 

Soldiers beside him, fell down, their bones breaking on the ground below, below the rampart. Some would fall on wooden spikes the enemy had prepared for them, landing square on their backs...it was a grisly affair.

Now the sensation he had felt was getting...a bit...uncomfortable. It was burning up with a fever.

Byleth used his arm-strength to pull himself up higher. Byleth's boots dug into the crevices between each stone, dust falling down below him. He would be the first up on their rope, he had to secure the top for everyone behind him. He couldn't stop moving. If you stopped moving in battle, you were a dead man.

Something stabbed him, right in his brain. It wanted to keep him from doing just that. It was like razors scraping, or the teeth of a beast eating.

Byleth had to wince, grinding his teeth.

He kept hold of the rope, but barely moving now. He inched forward, slowly lifting his feet.

He couldn't let go.

Sothis was pleading with him.

"Byleth please, make it stop! I feel as though something has taken hold of me! I can't see what it is, but I feel out of control. You do as well?"

"That wasn't you?" He asked.

"No! I thought you had done something. This is unbearable!"

The pain intensified now. The teeth were munching on his brain, whatever this illness was.

_Drop_

Byleth's hands slipped, the pain so excruciating.

If it hadn't been for Edelgard right behind him, he'd have fallen to the ground, probably snapping his spine on one of the wooden spikes.

She caught him, keeping him up. She had one arm over his stomach, the other still gripping the rope, white-knuckles straining under his weight.

"Are you okay?"

Byleth tried to slap himself out of it, shaking his head.

He grabbed back onto the rope, pulling himself up.

"I'm fine. I just saw the light."

"So you're fine enough to joke."

Byleth pulled himself up over the edge, into the interior of Derdriu's defenses.

Their soldiers were climbing up. Bernadetta was further down the wall, with Lysithea, and Dorothea.

Soldiers, from Derdriu, were rushing out of the towers, towards him.

A soldier, with an iron shortsword and beaten wooden round shield, stood in front of him. The Riegan infantryman had his legs close together, leaning forward as he inched closer, closing in on Byleth.

"This is Alliance territory. You won't be taking it unless you pry it from my bloodied broken knuckles."

Byleth pulled the sword of the creator out, letting its bright aura light up the path between him and the first soldier. The walls were too narrow for two people to stand beside each other. He was all that stood between this man and everyone on the rope.

"That can be arranged."

Byleth went right in to engage, to make the first strike.

He saw an opening. The soldier was reaching around for his shield, turning his back to Byleth. His last mistake.

He lunged, reaching out for the man.

As the soldier saw what was happening, stepping back, Byleth found himself spooked.

_Stop._

Byleth stepped back himself, totally screwing the attack. He had juked for no good reason.

The man smiled.

"Your last mistake."

He riposted, launching a power-hungry counter-attack at Byleth. He put the full force of his weapon into the swing.

Byleth parried it, their swords spitting sparks out from where they coupled. His sword gave a sharp groan, but it held the man back.

Byleth tried to pounce. 

_Stop._

Byleth pulled back, again.

He wasn't even in front of the rope now. The enemy could get to it.

The defenders of Derdriu marched forward, towards the rope, that the Emperor of Adrestia clung to.

From behind, a volley of arrows rained down from above, and black magic flooded from below, from the very stones.

The dozen or so soldiers before him, all fell to their knees. They clutched their bellies, bellowing in agony and jerking around, flopping over each other before falling off either side of the wall, dead.

He looked behind himself, to where Dorothea, Lysithea, and Bernadetta had been.

Bernadetta was waving to him.

"We did it, Professor! See! I saved you this time around!"

Dorothea was smiling.

"Do you need some tutoring from me? I'm sure I can help you improve."

Red armored gauntlets clutched the city's parapets, pulling golden horns up above the horizon, with black feathers behind them.

Edelgard wore her full suit of plated bronze, with black leather tassels hanging from her shoulders, a cape draped over her back. Her shield, with the seal of Adrestia, the double-headed Eagle, was strapped to her back by a copper buckle and a leather strap.

He bent down to help her up, reaching a hand to her.

She put all of her weight into him. She put her life in his hand.

As those familiar fingers wrapped into his, he felt something inside of him roar to life.

_"Fall."_

No, he couldn't do that.

Byleth kept tugging, pulling her over the cusp.

_"Drop."_

Byleth brushed aside the thought again.

But it came back, and it was screaming now.

"Kill."

It made his sweat stop dripping. It made his blood freeze in his veins.

Byleth let her go, Edelgards hand slipping out of his.

She called to him.

"My teacher!"

Byleths heart bolted forward, banging up against his clavicle almost as fast as he did.

He reached for her, cupping that red steel gauntlet in his black one.

He didn't know what had come over him.

Byleth put all of his force into sending Edelgard up over the ledge.

She steadied herself, standing tall.

She gestured for him to follow her, waving with her arm extended over her shoulder. She didn't even pause to consider what he had just done. Did she think it was a joke, or an accident?

"Come on! The other end of the front has already advanced!"

He ran after her, Linhardt, and Caspar in tow with a dozen or so soldiers. They rounded a corner around the tower, down a flight of stone stairs with a spider's web of cracks into the city's entryway. They were still damp with dew from the early morning. The gates of Derdriu stood before a grand roadway, that led straight towards the harbor, after passing through the merchant's district, where the extravagant copper-roofed homes of the merchant's guild members were.

He passed the lower class housing. Despite their poverty, the area was well maintained, the houses clean, and the streets as well. There were decorative streets planted in wooden barrels along the sidewalks. Claude kept Derdriu, all of Derdriu, well nurtured.

Those copper roofs were now charred from flame spells and black magic that ricocheted off of them. Some of the windows were already shattered from arrow fire. They were quicker casualties, a result of their prominence in the city's skyline. The Empire would need to repair this if they captured it.

Byleth stopped when he stood behind Edelgard and Caspar.

The Emperor's soldiers, joined by her and Caspar, were forming a solid formation of shields while the softer units, the mages, and archers, gathered behind them.

They stood at the mouth of the central square, which led from the gate to the city's harbor.

The square, Riegan Square, was surrounded on three sides by mansions, laced with intricate woodwork and gilded, wall-length windows, intersected by sidestreets. A small Church was in the mix, at the far end opposite them. On the fourth side, was the seaport. A few ships were docked there, but none flew the colors of House Riegan, or the Alliance. Foreign merchants, or were they enemy reinforcements? The Adrestians were holding their guard just before the entryway to the square, leading from the city's front gates and the tower they had climbed next to, between two of the mansions. The ocean was ahead of them, beyond the seaside homes.

A party of enemy soldiers was running headlong at their line, barreling towards them with axes over their heads, and howling.

Claude stood beyond them near the docks.

Claude, the embodied spirit and head of the Alliance. He moved gracefully through the square of his family's name, firing off a quiver of arrows while dodging Adrestian axes and spears.

Edelgard swung her axe from one side of her body, around to the other with one motion, to a brutal impact at the incoming troops. She struck one man, and with the force of her blow, three others had their daylights blown out. Her gait was wide, with the metal of her bronze sabatons clapping down against the stone walkway, firmly planted on the earth. She crouched only a little bit, enough to reach, not enough to be knocked over. She wasn't going anywhere. 

If Claude's ballet on the battle represented the Golden Deer, then Edelgard's unyielding, tireless march forward, slow, timed, but dependably ruinous represented the Black Eagle. She was a bulwark.

While Edelgard swiped away her opponents, Caspar jolted into action, like a ticking time bomb, and pummeled them.

He was knee-deep in the thicket of the defenders, his studded gauntlets, with sharp protrusions sticking out from the metallic knuckles beating down on one soldier. Caspar was relentless, refusing to let the man stand. He bashed his face in, giving the man plum-colored bruises the size of spoons on his face as the soldier struggled to get Caspar off.

Byleth took two steps forward, brushing past someone's houseplant. Warm weather succulents were planted in them, and miniature cypress trees.

Eyes, little green ones, looked down through the sea-sprayed window above the flowerbox at him.

They disappeared as his own greeted them, rushing away from view.

Byleth refocused on the battle at hand.

In front of him, a soldier had her eyes dead-set on him. So be it.

He looked to exploit a weakness. 

The woman, wearing a yellow gambeson, with poofy shoulder pads and chainmail guarding her chest, stood with her spear pointed forward, at his face.

As she lunged, he bent his knees, and with a low-strike, aimed for her hip.

There wasn't an easy hit on any vital body parts. This way, he could at least knock her off her feet. She was wearing lightly armored pants. They weren't even reinforced with iron or bronze. He could tear through the leather and sear her with his blades holy light...

His sword met her leg and began ripping through the leather.

Shallow, low humming rose in his ear canals, until it sent a shockwave down his brain.

_"No."_

This voice he heard inside of himself spoke in a ghoulish, demonic...gurgling. It gurgled when it spoke. It was recognizable to him, as not his own voice, but yet, he felt compelled to listen to it like his own self.

Byleth pulled back, letting the woman's leg break free of the clutches of his sword.

He stepped back, pulling away from the fight.

The soldier took her initiative, striking with her iron spear, with a yellow strip of cloth tied to the base of the spearhead, before the wooden pole for a hilt. The cloth twirled from the force of her thrust.

It dug into Byleth's side, piercing his skin. The tip of the yellow cloth absorbed his blood, becoming red.

He recoiled, the spear's tip rippling through his skin roughly like thorns that wanted to prick deeper.

Byleth stumbled backward, his hand on his side.

Edelgard brought her axe down on the woman.

She ripped into the exposed flesh of the woman's exposed leg, cutting right through.

Blood oozed out from the wound. As she stumbled back, Byleth pounced.

He made for an uppercut, bringing the sword above his shoulder. He ignored the bristling pain on his side. The light of his hero's relic set a trail of fire through the ocean's seaspray and mist in its trail, drying the air around it until the light met the sword at its impact point. Under her armpit. 

His sword broke flesh.

_Don't._

Byleth kept his sword in. They had to breakthrough, had to get past this line.

He could feel reverberations down the length of the sword as it cracked through ribs.

The soldier tried to step back, but Byleth's sword kept ripping through.

The soldier fell over backward, their head slamming against the stoneway. 

Not wanting to relent, they picked themselves up by one arm, dragging their body against the moist street stones developing a healthy forest of moss towards him, trying to stab Byleth in the feet with her sword.

She hollered.

"You bastard! Bastard! Damnable-."

Byleth pulled his sword up over his head, and brought it down like a jackhammer on the soldier's back, shattering their spinal column.

As the soldier collapsed finally, facedown in the moss, Byleth found himself involuntarily brought down too. He tried resisting, using his sword to prop himself up like a cane.

His legs were wobbly, weak.

_Fall._

His knees smacked the ground, stone against bone.

_Wrong._

Edelgard quickly noticed him, and bent down over him.

She put one arm to his chest, the other his back, cradling him.

"Linhardt! I think he's fainted. Heal him!"

He didn't have the stamina to tell her he was fine, that he hadn't passed out.

Something was jabbing him now, like needles into his brain.

_Resist._

She tried to pull him to his feet.

While she did, she uncorked the canteen she kept stored at her side, trying to get him to sip the water.

"My teacher, please. We need you. Please, get up. Drink my water if you need it."

Byleth gripped the succulent filled window box with one hand for support and Edelgard's shoulder for another.

His head was burning up now. He was struggling to even think independently.

"Fall."

Byleth fell back down to one knee.

Their soldiers were rushing past them now, into the square.

He was supposed to be there, in front of them.

She held him in her arms and leaned him against the side of the house.

"I'm sorry my teacher. You should remain behind."

Caspar crouched down next to her.

"Do you think this could be related to that battalion acting strange I told you about Edelgard?"

Linhardt continued his train of thought.

"Or the fact we came up short during roll-call..."

She looked to Caspar, and then to Linhardt.

"We can't rule that out. I suspect Claude would know. But we can't be sure. Both of you, keep an especially close watch on our soldiers. We need to take Claude seriously, and we can't afford to lose more people."

Linhardt nodded in agreement, thinking about the matter out loud.

"There was a section of the library in Abyss, that recorded forbidden spells..."

She returned her eyes to Byleth.

Byleth lay his head back, letting it rest against the red sandstone wall. The foundation was one solid block of the stone, while the first story of the house was fashioned of cut and squared stones. The second story and rafters were oaken planks.

"I need to be with you all."

She passed her gaze to the swelling enemy ranks in the square. 

It was clear someone else, enemy allies, were here.

They wore chainmail, or dark brown and yellow leather armor, or no armor at all, bare-chested, with their black tribal tattoos over burly chests. Almost all of them were double-barrel chested.

They flew saddled wyverns off of the decks of their ships docked in the harbor. 

Almyrans. The warriors to the east.

Black hair like puffy clouds arced out over the water, hairy chests bobbing in the air, in a horde of beefy Almyrans.

The Almyrans flew in a 'V' formation over the city, like a flock of predatory birds, banging their shields together. The banging caused a great chorus of roaring from their wyverns, and the Almyrans taunted, saying :

"Give our fatherland cause for a new battle song, westmen!"

They then proceeded to aggressively chant: 

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" in tandem, and raised their shields in the air.

Edelgard's resolve, despite the situation, was unwavering.

"We can handle this Professor. Just say safe, lay low. We won't let them pass this point."

She put her hands to his head, her thumbs rubbing his temples.

"Your temperature, it's boiling. You must feel terrible."

Byleth just grunted.

"I'm fine."

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"I don't believe you. Consider this a return of thanks for your hug, that you gave me. That meant so much to me coming from you. I needed your hug that day."

Her lips were pressed together in a serious expression, but she had her eyes closed like she found some special respite in hugging him.

_Kill._

Byleth's body jerked, fighting against itself. He pulled back from her, while his brain ordered his body to pull her in.

It took so much exertion not to reach out to Edelgard, and hug her back. If he did, he might wring her neck. He had to resist these urges.

She didn't pick up on it.

Edelgard stood, and brushing herself off, returned to her duties.

She held her arm up to a group of soldiers.

"You there! Secure the side streets! Dorothea, Lysithea! Go for the riders in the back on the ship decks, while Caspar and I handle the outriders!"

A man with a long and grizzled brown beard, arms as thick as wine jugs, and scars crisscrossing his face flew out of one of the ship's holds, blasting his way up, yelling like a banshee.

"Here come the Almyrans! We ride for Claude!"

He bellowed.

"You face Nader the undefeated!"

Edelgard took even, steady steps towards him.

"You ride to your first defeat. You're just in my way."

Byleth sighed to himself.

He looked at her, leading her soldiers in a war she believed so strongly in.

Leading them in something she felt so strongly for.

It made him envious. Who was she, able to convince Legions to follow her, and keep vows to them she believed so strongly to be true?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She would not falter, never waiver. 

The heir of Wilhelm's throne's voice bellowed over the water.

"Shields!"

At her command, every soldier with one lifted their romanesque rectangular shields painted crimson red above their heads. She lifted her own as well. Those that lacked one gathered under the protective defensive formation.

The Almyrans bombarded them with micro-explosions. Little burlap packets of gunpowder, with fuses sticking out.

It was like getting pelted with hail, hail that could launch shrapnel into your body.

The fighting had been drawn out.

If it was just Claude and the defenders of Derdriu, this battle would already be won.

But the Almyran general who screamed his name "Nader" was relentless.

The Adrestians had brought three Legions, composed of several battalions each, or two regiments.

They were down to one. The first Legion, the "Hresvelgian Honor Guard". Many of these soldiers, all of whom were required to live in and around Enbarr so they could come to their Emperor's aid, she had known since she was a girl.

They were some of the special few men she had faith in.

Edelgard brought her axe up above her head, readying her stance as an Almyran flier rode above her head.

He had a scimitar in his hand, heading for Edelgard's head, while he leaned over the side of his Wyvern, which was screeching in the early evening sky. The sun was setting over Derdriu, a ruby red sky reflected over the peaceful waters, an irony in their battle.

She slammed down on his lizard's neck, hard.

The wyvern flapped its wing rapidly, trying to get out from under her, her axe dragging it down.

Aymr brought the animal to the smooth, flat slate streets, grounding it.

The Almyran stepped off of his mount, and lunged, cutting at her.

Scimitars were powerful blades, forged from a single, strong length of steel.

But her breastplace was equally strong.

His sword cut against it, leaving a scrape across the armor.

She taunted him as she brought her axe back up.

"Pathetic. Is that all?"

The Almyran warrior stepped backward, still facing her.

He was a seasoned veteran. Besides the fact the man looked older, with crow's feet around his eyes and a fat, wrinkly chin, she could tell because the most veteran Almyrans usually were allowed to sport the longest beards. His was chest-length, billowing like a shaggy cloud over his exposed chest. He also had golden hoops around his thick upper arms, each representing a battle he had participated in. His arms had many on them. They were linked together by a single gold chain clipped onto the hoops.

"Come at me lass."

She obliged him, swinging Aymr as he prodded her with his curved blade.

Her axe came down on him, and his sword upon her.

The toothed edge of the blade tore into the lower side of her upper arm, crevicing in between the joint piece where her arm's armor met her chest's armor.

Amyr thunked on the man's shoulder, severing tendons, sending him down to one leg.

The warrior jumped up from where he was crouching, slashing with a damaging move, blowing her back on her feet.

Edelgard tensed up, scrunching her eyebrows together and puffing up her chest in a resilient display.

She lifted her axe back up, biting back the pain she felt in the arm.

All of her arm muscles flexed, veins popping as she brought it down on him. Edelgard was tired of their resistance. 

She dispatched the warrior with a blow to his chest, ripping a gash into his body, knocking his hoops off in the process.

She stepped over them, smashing them into pieces under her boot. They fought for nothing.

Edelgard surveyed the situation.

The Alliance had been pushed back, so now Claude stood on a stone dock coming off of the side of the city's retaining wall, its first protection against the onslaught of the sea. 

The other Golden Deer were with him. Hilda, Leonie, Raphael, and Lorenz were out front, guarding Claude's position. 

Marianne was cut-off from them, in the far corner of the square.

The square was sizeable. Marianne was twenty yards from Edelgard, at least. Her back was to what appeared to be a Church, with an empty belltower, a battalion under her command, protecting her. She should be an open target.

This battle was down to the wire. Bernadetta had already run out of arrows and was using a spear she had plucked off a corpse. Edelgard's arms were sore, her hair was totally disheveled, and their Professor...

He was still just leaning against the wall of the mansion she had left him at. He kept trying to stand, but he'd just fall back down each time. Something was keeping him there. It spooked all of them seeing him down for no apparent reason.

They were so close to victory. Yet so near defeat. Things hadn't gone as smoothly without him as they usually did. The battle just kept dragging on, and everyone seemed exhausted. Even Jeritza, riding down the streets on his horse to cut a path through soldiers, was bent over, swinging his weapon slower than usual.

It hurt her to see Byleth like this, helpless. It was obvious to her the morale of everyone was low because of it. All he could seem to bring himself to do was sit there.

Nader flew his Wyvern around the field of play, swirling down to his flagship. The green flag of Almyra, with the icon of a yellow archer on horseback, flew from the central mast. Nader dismounted and was walking to the forefront of the ship. He stopped in front of a trapdoor leading down to the ship's hold. The trapdoor had a wooden frame, supporting a metal grate.

He was slowly backing behind it though.

Claude and Edelgard were both looking at him, wondering what he was plotting.

Claude spoke first, speaking accusatorily.

"What are you doing Nader? You look suspicious."

The older man twisted his beard in a knot around his thumb as he curled it, while slowly lifting up the trapdoor.'

"We need to be going. This has been fun, but it's too close a call now. Now isn't my time to lose."

Edelgard didn't show it, but this was great news. The enemy's allies were retreating. She kept her poker face on, just looking at the two of them, Claude and then Nader, without saying a word. She wanted to observe this argument. She shouldn't say anything to jeopardize this opportunity.

Claude rolled his eyes, and scoffed.

"Nader! Are you serious man? We could've won this!"

Nader shook his head, reaching down into the hold for something. An Almyran was down there, brown arms reaching up to him...

"This is about survival Claude."

"What even are you doing? Hoping to go hide in a hole? Leave your men behind? Seriously man?"

Claude was halfway up the ship's ramp now, glaring at Nader. Edelgard stayed where she was, just behind her troops.

Edelgard spoke now.

"You're disgraceful."

The Leicester and Adrestian frontlines bashed their shields together, spearing each other, trying to get around each other's shields while the Almyrans circled back on their Wyverns to their ships.

Nader answered both of them.

"Disgraceful? Who said anything about forgetting my boys?"

Edelgard spoke now.

"Your men have attacked mine, starting hostilities between us where there had been none prior. The Empire does not tolerate such acts of defiance."

The Almyrans had bombed her soldiers and kept a hopeless defense of Derdriu going longer than needed. Her first concern was Claude, but she wasn't going to just let them run off either. 

"Aye, figured that might be your prerogative. That is why I brought insurance. Tell me do these matter to either of you?"

Nader pulled up a woman in his arms and shoved her up onto the deck. He then tugged on the ropes tying two men together. The ropes were tied in a circle around their waists, so neither could move without the other. 

Edelgard's expression grew graven now, offering Nader a death stare.

Nader called to her.

"I picked these up from a gal in a port in Sreng. A weird one that one. Didn't think anything of them, any more than a chance at gold, but the chattery orange-haired one here kept saying "I am Ferdinand von Aegir, of Adrestia" constantly, and to release them all. Figured they might be important. Now you order your line back Emperor, or they'll suffer for it. I start with the tall one. That one has a mouth on him."

Nader wagged his hand like he was shaking something off it.

"The rascal bit me earlier!"

He was talking about Hubert. Hubert, her oldest friend, and loyal servant.

Edelgard held her arm up, to the side.

"Stand down, Adrestia!"

Her soldiers were grumbling, in a state of shock as they backed away. They kept their shields up, marching back in a defense posture.

They were disappointed in her. 

An Emperor...

Yielding to a threat?

This was not the woman Edelgard was.

But...

She looked up at them, on his ship.

She couldn't afford to lose them. The battle was not yet lost, but she had to let Nader go.

Petra, Ferdinand, and Hubert were in front of Nader, huddled together. They all had socks stuffed in their mouths, and Hubert looked to be in atrocious condition. But they were alive. All of them were alive.

Hubert looked like he retching, hunched over himself. He wasn't his usual self-sure self.

Hubert was gagging on the socks stuffed in his mouth, rejecting it. He pushed the wad out of his mouth.

Hubert spoke to her from there.

"My Lady! Let us go. This battle is too consequential. Leave me, negotiate for their release if it soothes you."

Did he really expect her to go along with that?

"Hubert, I know what we agreed on."

"Then why do you hesitate?"

She looked around at all of them, to her troops, and to her friends.

They were why she hesitated. They were battered, and they needed her leadership. 

Edelgard felt her hand, where her crest of flames lay.

She rubbed over the site of the scar, while she lowered her head.

Would she be forced to die to herself? To let Edelgard die, and the Hegemon live?

She would do whatever she must to see her plan through, but it wasn't fair to ask them to die before she did. If choosing to save them ruined their plans, she would take action.

Even if...she didn't want to anymore.

Edelgard peered at her Professor, out of the corner of her eyes. The man who had changed all of their lives so much for the better.

She didn't need his approval. She didn't care if anyone agreed with what she did.

But she wanted his support.

Edelgard answered Hubert.

"We will do what we must."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth looked near his side, to Lysithea, who was watching over Linhardt.

She was exerting all of her energy to heal Linhardt.

She spoke to him.

"It would be really appreciated if you could help Professor. Linhardt got more than the wind knocked out of him."

She slipped her hand away from his stomach, where she had been casting her magic.

He had a gash. Someone had jumped him on his way through the city.

He had impressed Byleth. Linhardt had been running around to help, and just got stuck in an alley. Luckily Lysithea came to his rescue, but not before Linhard received a lashing.

Byleth wasn't an idiot.

He could see that the line was faltering, and while Edelgard hadn't sounded the retreat, she wasn't ordering them to advance.

The Almyrans just kept gathering on their ship, the three Black Eagles stuck there, held as hostages for Nader's retreat. No one was making a move.

This was too much for anyone to handle alone. Even Edelgard.

Sothis spoke to him.

"Then why aren't you with her?"

Byleth tried reaching for the windowbox, to pull himself up by his arms.

_Sit_

His legs gave way first, his butt followed down. That was why.

He wanted to help, but he felt like he was chained down to this road.

Byleth was literally sitting back in the stone gutter that ran along the far edge of the road before the sidewalk, unable to even scootch forward a little so his pants wouldn't get soaked from the drainage water running down the gutter sluice carved into the sidewalk, where they emptied out into the ocean.

"So we give up? Do we do nothing? Look at your friend over there. She looks really displeased by all of this."

Edelgard was hunched over and had retreated to the back of the line.

Byleth called to her.

"Edelgard? How goes it?"

She answered.

"I can handle it, my teacher."

Sothis spoke.

"She doesn't sound like she can handle this."

What could he do?

"Help her."

"I can't Sothis."

"Yes you can!"

"Did you remember something?"

"Can't you sense it as well? You are my champion. You can do anything with that sword, that crest, if only you have the heart to do so. Use my power, it is yours to wield. That has to be enough. I think that...your crest power...it is somehow destined to overcome any obstacle. The crest is powerful enough, you just need to use it, like when we escaped the void of that Tomas character!"

Linhardt was dying.

Petra, Ferdinand, and Hubert were captured.

Edelgard looked about ready to lose her cool. Something was deeply troubling her right now. She kept feeling her hand, and peeking looks at him as if she couldn't tell he could see her clearly. She looked guilty over something.

For whatever reason, the only person who for once wasn't losing their cool, was Bernadetta. 

She was using a spear since she must've run out of arrows hours ago, and was running through enemies relentlessly.

Dorothea and Caspar were beside her. She kept spearing enemies as she spoke to her friends, engaging a new one at a rapid pace.

"Yeah! No one is going to touch Bernie! I just. Want. To. Go. Home!"

Bernadetta kept thrusting with her spear, stabbing each one of Claude's men she encountered, before moving onto the next. She was working overtime, but it was obvious the others were faltering.

Byleth was impressed by her will to survive. Someone as timid as Bernadetta could fight back. Timidity did not keep her from overcoming her fears.

"You're wrong Sothis."

Byleth began to pick himself up for the eleventy-seventh time today, holding the window box. It creaked under his weight.

_Sit_

Byleth groaned audibly.

"Noooooo..."

He kept pulling up. As his legs gave in, he forced his arms up more.

He would...stand.

Sothis spoke to him.

"What do you mean I'm wrong? You need my power. You certainly can't do it alone."

"I love you Sothis. Sincerely, I do. But Edelgard is right. I don't need a crest."

Byleth's life since he had moved to the Monastery had been dictated by this crest. He didn't even know he had it before Hanneman told him before this sword claimed him. 

Well he wasn't just the "Enlightened One" He was the "Ashen Demon". He was prouder of that honorific anyways. 

"don't care if something is controlling my actions. I am Jeralt's son..."

He said, so only Sothis could hear.

He groaned again, the windowbox groaning with him.

"And I will...stand."

He tore the windowbox right off of its supports, flipping out, dumping its contents across the street.

He looked back through the window at those green eyes that were back again.

He peered in, poking his head forward like an ostrich stretching out its neck. He spoke to those eyes.

"Boo."

Byleth walked away from the window, to the cheering of Lysithea.

"Yeah! Edelgard! Edelgard! He's up!"

Byleth swung his weapon around his arm in a circle, working himself up.

_Kneel!_

Byleth slumped forward, his whole body slipping across the square like he was on ice skates, struggling to stay upright.

He just...couldn't...kneel. Even if every nerve in his body told him to do so.

He ran to her, to latch onto Edelgard's shoulder for support.

He could figure it out from there. He had to figure out how to win this thing....from Edelgard's shoulder.

Byleth his free hand on her solid shoulder.

"Edelgard? I'm here."

He said it nonchalantly, just managing to get it out as he huffed and puffed.

She turned to him.

Her face was so pale like she was a ghost, and her eyelids were sunken in. Her eyes looked so hard, unemotional. Those eyes had been hurting, steeling themselves against tears she refused to let herself drop.

But as she looked into her teacher's face, looked at him, life returned to her face, and her eyes softened.

She answered him. She teased him.

"Oh? You're finally awake. Excellent."

_Kill_

Byleth brought his sword forward, cutting up under her arm.

She winced, falling back, shoving him off.

Edelgard held her injured arm while speaking, still hunched over.

"Claude! This has you written all over it. What is wrong with him?"

Claude answered her, still stationed on the dock.

"Should I answer? We are at war. I didn't realize I took orders from you, oh your divine majesty."

"Your allies kidnapped my friends. Is this what the Alliance is? A gang?"

Claude sighed, running his hands through his hair while he paced.

"I suppose not. The kidnapping is too far, even for me. I'm not like Dimitri or you...I can't stomach that stuff. It's a head-vex. He's under the influence of some magic."

Claude turned his attention to Marianne.

Marianne...can you release Teach, let him run loose?

Grrr....groooo.....arooooooooooooooooooo.

A growl answered him.

They all looked back, to the Church Marianne was standing near.

Marianne's body was morphing. Her arms and legs grew exponentially until they were so large, she dropped to all fours. Her head rapidly morphed as she shook, resisting whatever was overtaking her, Marianne's skull reshaping into something more animalistic until she was unrecognizable, no longer Marianne.

In her place stood a great white, ghostly beast, with red painting its veins. It had teeth like stalagmites and stalactites, long and sharp. The thing had the hooves of a horse, but the body of a boar.

Great black chains hung around its neck.

All of the soldiers, allied and enemy, backed off without asking, seeming to forget their orders.

The soldiers who had been next to Marianne running off, abandoning their weapons behind them as they bolted for their frontline.

Marianne, or what had been Marianne, reached out to them with an enormous tongue. Like a tentacle, it grabbed them all, pulling them into its maw...and...eating them.

It belched, torn yellow gambeson shreds coming out.

She then slashed out with sharp black claws, the length of spears and thickness of young trees swiping at the enemy and allied soldiers alike.

Dorothea cast a magical dome around Caspar, Bernadetta, and herself just in time before the monster swiped at them as it cleared Riegan Square. The last of Claude's soldiers were rapidly coalescing onto the docks, while their own retreated to where Lysithea sat with Linhardt. Both sides were trying to back off from this beast.

Byleth couldn't stop looking at the thing. 

_Come._

Byleth shook Edelgard's shoulder, getting her attention.

"This is it Edelgard."

She looked at him.

"Do you mean what I think?"

"I feel drawn to it.

_Feed._

"It wants me to feed myself to it."

Edelgard moved out in front of him, putting herself between the monster and Byleth.

"Claude! We have to take her down."

Claude sighed.

"I understand. Battle's over everyone. Damn it. Why did it need to be Marianne...I should not have trusted that guy. I feel like an idiot, buying a head-vex from him. I'd like to knock his jaw in now."

Edelgard looked to him, as the beast roared while lifting its hind paws up.

"Who exactly did you purchase this spell from?"

"Some mage...really odd-looking, from what I could see under his hood he insisted on wearing. Met him in an old ruined lighthouse on the shore, a days journey from here."

Byleth spoke.

Weird scars on his head? From what you could tell?

Claude's eyes grew. He hadn't expected Byleth to know anything about the guy. Who had he sought help from? He had come to Derdriu, maybe a week before their battle at the bridge. Claude had waved off his offer to help the Alliance. Then, after he saw the Professor was back, well, it seemed like he should take the offer and ready Derdriu for Edelgard. So he sought him out, found the guy where he told Claude he'd be waiting. Claude hadn't intended to meet him, didn't care. Then the diea became more necessary.

Yeah actually, now that you say it. I thought they were tattoos. Didn't judge it then.

We might know the type.

"You know the guy Teach?"

"Likely."

It was Dagon. He knew it had to be.

He turned to Edelgard, whispering.

"Should we let him in on it?"

She shook her head.

"No. We shouldn't reveal our allies' identities. Just ask him if Dagon wanted anything. Why would he help Claude?"

"Did this man say what he wanted Claude?"

Byleth could speak, but if he tried to move, he felt himself moving towards the beast, which was still roaring while it took out Almyrans flying overhead, swatting them down like flies.

"Not much. Just has a vendetta against the Empire I guess- though, he did say he wanted to really screw up a relationship. I didn't recognize who he was referring to. Sorry I can't be of more help."

Edelgard looked back to her Professor.

"We need to speak to my Uncle after this. It doesn't make sense to me why he would attack us. This is twice we have been attacked by Dagon. It is possible this was not my Uncle's idea."

"Perhaps all is not well in the fairytale land of Those who slither in the dark."

He offered a rare smile, somehow finding it in him to be the calm amid the storm.  
She returned it with her own smile.

His smile brought on her own.

"Come my teacher."

She lifted up her axe.

"Adrestians! Rise! Stand aside Claude!"

Claude answered.

"No worries. I'll deal with Nader for you. We need to have a little chat about proper gentlemanly behavior."

Claude walked up the plank of Nader's flagship, still docked in the harbor.

Byleth couldn't focus on them. Just walking was too much of a distraction.

Bernadetta was to his left, Edelgard the right.

_Move left._

Byleth found himself striding left, towards Bernie.

_Kill._

He lunged at her, bringing her sword down.

An orange ward pulled up in front of him. The ward looked like a hexagon, made of intersecting magical triangles.

His sword bashed against the ward.

Dorothea, from behind, spoke up.

"I caught that one Professor!"

Byleth had an idea in his head.

He had to stop trying to murder his students. He had already injured Edelgard. She was carrying her axe limply. When she tried to bring it up higher, above her waist, it must have stung her, because she brought it back low quickly.

"Bernadetta. Move out of my way."

He brushed her way tenderly, off to the side.

Well, it was supposed to be tender.

_Shove._

Bernadetta got knocked over by him, falling backward onto the pavement.

She moaned.

"I knew I should've stayed at base camp!"

He knocked past Edelgard too, and the rest of the soldiers, like a bull running through the races.

"What are you doing?"

_Stop._

_Stop._

_Stop._

Byleth's brain was fried. His consciousness shattering. He couldn't even hear her at this point. Ignoring everything his brain was telling him to do was making it impossible to focus on anything but walking forward.

Towards this thing.

_Halt._

Byleth moved his feet to run, but they kept dragging against the road.

He was within ten feet of the beast now.

He looked down at the shredded armor of the swallowed Leicester infantrymen. The bits were strewn across the street, coated in saliva.

Byleth pushed off of the ground, jumping.

As he did, the creature called out to him, in his brain.

_Stop!_

But he couldn't. Gravity was leading him now.

Byleth brought his sword up. The sword of the creator.

He brought it over his shoulder as he got closer to what Marianne had become.

He sliced into her at first, cutting the side of her scalp.

As he slid down the beasts bulging head, which was almost worth half of its body size, the sword straightened out. It ripped through the tissue and was bearing down on the center of its head now, skidding against skullbone and creating a deep gash. 

The sword stopped at the base of its neck, lodging in between vertebrae.

A red substance oozed out. It wasn't blood at all, it was thick, gel-like.

The thing roared, backing up.

It broke through the double wooden doors of the Church, smashing through stone support columns on either side of the Church until it sat down before the Altar of Sothis.

It called out to him.

_Stop! Stop!_

It must be getting desperate now. 

He didn't care. 

Byleth forced his sword out, letting it crack spine bone. 

Only for Byleth to cram the sword back into the site of the wound. 

The monster tried to shake him off, tousling its enormous head around as it roared so loud it was blaring in his ears.

He stood on top of it, holding on to the chain collar around its neck so he wouldn't fall off. 

His sword reached deeper. 

He could feel its pain, and it was excruciating. He didn't have sympathy for this monster. He could feel the pain building in his own veins. nOrmally, he was more cautious with these things. But if he hesitated even once, he might just let it swallow him whole. 

He flipped his head back, gritting his teeth as it felt like his own spine was shattering. 

Was he tied to it? 

Would he die with it, or was this just an illusion? 

Byleth gored the beast, wrenching the sword inside of its body, yet the thing wouldn't die.

The beat roared yet again, flaring its head up, flinging him off. The beast's movements flew Byleth straight over its head, slamming him against the cold grey marble with golden streaks.

Byleth's pelvis bone thunked hard against it, causing him to involuntarily rub it. 

The sword of the creator skated across the floor several feet back from him.

As he sat there, the monster pawed closer, its massive claws scraping the marble.

Byleth rushed to stand. He didn't feel like being eaten today.

_Stay_

Damn it.

Sothis was communicating with him.

"I'm trying to use divine pulse. I can't. I feel so weak right now. So inept."

Should he just accept getting eaten?

He could smell its breath from here.

Digesting human flesh, the scent of meat that was fresh, yet had a rancid scent like rotten meat was exhaled from the monster's jaw.

He could hear her voice from behind. It traveled clearly to him across the marble. Edelgard.

"Stand! You need to stand!"

Her voice was still calm, but she said it with a sense of urgency.

Byleth summoned his feet to work again, pulling himself up.

_Drop_

His legs started shaking.

But she kept calling him.

"You need to stand my teacher!"

Silently, Byleth rose up again, letting his legs flutter like feathers in a gust of wind.

_Drop_

The monster was on top of him now. Thick beads of saliva mixed with blood dropped at his feet.

How was he supposed to move? He had a reason. He didn't feel like being eaten. But defying this thing was ludicrous. It was like disobeying himself.

Bernie called to him now.

"We need you, Professor! You can't die!"

Now was not the time to guilt-trip him for giving up.

Why wasn't it moving?

The monster seemed to want to sniff its prey, inspecting him.

Its fat wet nose, the shape of a bulbous lump of lard, and the size of a cat rubbed up against his face.

Edelgard finally said it.

"You chase the shadows away."

What?

Even though the monster was literally over him now, he had to ask.

"What does that mean?"

She said it plainly. She said it with resolve. She didn't quiver over them, she didn't stutter.

"You make all of our lives better. You've made mine better. Please, I can't lose you, my teacher."

Byleth slid his arm out towards his sword, stretching it out to its limits.

He swung it up and burst up with it with a sudden sense of urgency.

Byleth had never heard Edelgard tell him something so...vulnerable.

She was right.

Byleth had to be in all of their lives. In hers. He needed to stay alive for them.

While his subconscious kept sending orders to his body, commanding his arms to fall, his legs to bend, Byleths willpower was fighting against the monster. He needed to fight, he needed to resist with the strength of a bull. He needed to survive for them. He wasn't done teaching them, being a friend.

He jumped up, narrowly grazing the monster's mouth.

He reached for its chain, to pull himself up back onto its head.

Byleth straddled the beast's neck and stabbed true into its neck.

The monster screamed, as it fell back down, smashing the altar of an absent God.

Byleth kept stabbing it, driving his sword deeper into its chest cavity. This monster was still walking, despite the agony, it must be in. He had to hit a vital organ or something, and he knew which he was headed for. The heart. He was getting close. He knew because more copious amounts of the sludgy blood was oozing out of the wound.

_Professor!_

Byleth stopped his advance, holding the sword still above the heart of the beast he had cut a brutal path through its somehow still living flesh to, leaving behind blackened scar tissue in his trail.

He could see it. 

It was a massive, rotten, black morass. More like a cancerous tumor than a heart. He could see it from here, through its open chest cavity, beating slowly. 

The beast had spoken to him, it had addressed him. It spoke in a somber, mellow voice. But a familiar one, one altogether human.

"Marianne?" 

Was she was still alive? 

_I'm it. But I can still feel myself. Please, save me._

Byleth coughed, and blood came up.

He hacked it out, spitting off to the side of the beast, onto the floor. 

"I don't know if I can Marianne. It might be you or me." 

_Claude didn't mean to hurt you, or me. He didn't know. Don't be mad at him._

"This isn't fair to you Marianne. Maybe I could save you if I die? Maybe you'll turn back if the monster has no reason to stay around?"

Her voice shone through the beasts now. As the beast died, he could sense Marianne more. What had this magic done to her? What had Dagon done to Marianne?

_You have more to do than I do Professor. Your life has more unspent than mine._

"That's a horrible thought, Marianne." 

The Black Eagle Strike Force was gathering outside of the Church now, just watching the two of them. 

Did they know? Could they tell? They held back. All of them just watched as Byleth and this Monster seemed to share a moment together. 

_It's true Professor._

"Marianne, you can't say that. I want you to live too."

_"I just...if it's alright to ask... You didn't choose to teach us. Everyone liked you, yet you chose the Black Eagles. Why?_

"I'm sorry. I sensed they needed me more. You seemed fine with Hanneman."

_I wasn't._

The monster roared again, this time it was whimpering, as the beast lay its head low.

_It hurts Professor. It hurts so much._

Byleth couldn't be everyone's hero. He couldn't be a Professor for everyone. He couldn't guide everyone out of their darkness. 

Byleth found himself letting go of the sword and wrapping his arms around the beast. 

As the sword, by the force of gravity, slipped closer to the beast's heart, puncturing it, the monstrous behemoth fell to the floor. 

He could hear the pitter-patter of songbirds on the roof of the Chuch now. Did they know what was happening?

There was almost no light left in the Church now, the sun setting and the monster's body blocking most of the windows

The beast fell, Byleth with it, hugging the thing, and he lost her. He lost Marianne. The first student slain by his hand. 

Marianne wasn't a knight. She wasn't a strategist. She wasn't even really a mage. She was just a person.

A person who needed him.

But he chose the Black Eagles. 

Why did choosing someone mean failing the others? 

Byleths put his arms around her in a deeper hug. He could feel himself sinking as the monstrous form she had taken dissipated. This hadn't been a crest monster. People never had their bodies returned to them, because once a crest stole you, it kept you forever. This had been something else, perhaps something similar, but not the same. Maybe it was something worse. Something born of hellfire. 

Under him, was Marianne.

And he felt free again. He couldn't hear the whispers of the beast. No more gurgling. 

Byleth backed off, flipping her over. 

Byleth reached back down, hugging her after he saw the state of her. 

Her chest was shallow, caved in from her collapsed lungs. Her hair had been shaken out of place, it was loose. The tips were rapidly soaking in blood coming out from her heart.

Marianne had something he hadn't. She was more human than he was, yet she was the one dead, not him.

Marianne was dead. 

Byleth rose slowly, scooping her up in his arms. 

He walked slowly over to the gathered students.

The Church was smashed to pieces. The roof was still standing, but it was sagging. The belltower had fallen, crashed in front of the building. Piles of rubbed stone crushed wooden dusty pews.

Claude was there. 

Petra, Ferdinand, and Hubert too. 

Hubert...he was propping himself up against Caspar. Jeritza, who had spent most of the battle chasing after Wyverns on a horse, was behind both of them. 

Ferdinand was stretching out his legs like he had been sitting for a long time. 

Petra stood alone, her hands cupped together, while several mages, from both sides, gathered over Linhardt with Lysithea further back. 

They were cheering. 

Well. The Black Eagles were. 

Claude called to him. 

"She alright? Teach?" 

Byleth shook his head deliberately, slowly. 

The mood in the room soured with his nod. 

Edelgard's eyebrows were straight, her iris's lowered and pupils small. She was sulking behind Caspar and Dorothea's back. As if she felt guilty when she shouldn't. 

She broke the silence first.

"This is not how I wanted this to work out. I promise you, Claude, on behalf of the whole Empire..." 

Claude raised his hand. 

"Don't go on. This is what I get for going too far. After our last battle, I knew I needed to get drastic. But this wasn't worth it. People matter more than our political games. I never should've let her risk herself. Had I know her life was at stake, I wouldn't have asked her. I feel like an idiot right now." 

Claude stepped forward towards the Professor. 

He held his arms out like he wanted to take Marianne from him. 

Byleth offered her up, Marianne's body limp, devoid of any signs of life. 

Byleth placed her gently in the arms of Claude, where she rested. 

"She said you didn't know." 

"I didn't. In my rush, I didn't do all of my homework. Guess I'm a bit of a screw-up." 

Byleth spoke without missing a beat. 

"You were unteachable." 

"Ouch Teach. I feel like this is a funeral, but you just operate on a different wavelength, don't you?" 

"What are you doing now? Do we continue this battle, Claude?" 

"No. Enough bloodshed. Marianne is the last. I dealt with Nader, convinced him if he abducted those three, Edelgard would just hunt him down for the rest of his life. Honestly, it was a raw deal for him, accepting them as prisoners. Both of us kind of did. I thought mine was at least logical, but it wasn't. I'm going to have this weighing me down for a long time. It's something I'll never get over." 

He looked to Edelgard. 

"Riegan's done. I can't force the others if they insist." 

Edelgard nodded. 

"That's why I took the liberty to arrest them all." 

Claude rolled his eyes.

"I thought we had a momentary truce?"

She spoke.

"I thought we were enemies."

"You know something? That's worthy of a war declaration... but I have no army now." 

Claude pushed past the Adrestian soldiers. 

He looked back to Byleth. 

"Watch her Teach. I trust you to keep her head screwed on right. Make sure she's merciful to Derdriu. These are good people." 

Byleth responded cooly. 

"I will. Where are you going?" 

Claude looked down at Marianne's lifeless body, then back up at his former schoolmates. 

"I need to give Marianne what she deserves. Then...who knows? Might wander a bit." 

Edelgard reached out her hand to him, offering it to him. 

"Why not ally with us? I'm sure you think you barely lost. Having you would allow this war to go much more expeditiously." 

Hubert coughed, spitting out some green and yellow gunk at Caspar's feet. 

He dodged it, lifting his foot up and giving Hubert a grossed-out look. 

"Aid us. Bring the fight to the Kingdom." 

Claude snorted. 

"You two? I wish the Empire luck, but I'd rather watch. I won't stand against you. But I'm done with war for a while. If something more important comes up, send me a letter." 

He looked back at Byleth. 

"Scratch it. Make Teach write it. I don't want to read some snarky note from Edelgard. I know she can't stand to beg me." 

Claude walked out of the Church, stepping over the bashed-down doors. 

Edelgard looked to her teacher, with her arms crossed over the other.

"What do you think of him?"

Byleth spoke.

"As a leader, or as a man?"

"Both perhaps."

Byleth grunted.

"As a leader? Claude is... was a wise one, who cared. We would've been fortunate to have him fight with us."

"I can agree to that. What do you think of him as a man?"

Byleth looked at Claude, the former Duke to guide the Leicester alliance as he held Marianne.

He didn't carry her as a religious man might, saying pious prayers over the body as Alliance soldiers stopped to cry or pay respects as he passed them. 

Instead, he looked into her eyes, intently, as a friend.

"He is one of the best I've ever known."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Byleth stood near Edelgard in Riegan Square.

Perhaps it would need to be renamed to Hresvelg Square? Byleth wasn't sure of her intentions for this land, but knowing Edelgard, she'd give the people a chance. She was giving the former leaders of the Alliance a chance now, weren't they?

He stood in Riegan square, her slightly leaning on him for support. 

She kept up appearances, standing as straight as she could, but he knew her shoulder had to be bothering her. She had been hit in the same place twice, once by him, and Byleth didn't go easy on her. 

In his defense, he didn't have control over that.

While she leaned, he kept pouring healing magic on it, trying to suture up the wound. Byleth could play nurse when there wasn't a real one around.

Caspar, Lysithea, and Bernadetta were there. Jeritza as well. He stood a ways back, under the shade of the dilapidated Church.

Dorothea was sitting on a bench next to Linhardt, healing him. Linhardt was sitting up against the armrest of the bench, lying down with Dorothea at his feet, while Hubert, Petra, and Ferdinand sat on the road, being checked over by mages for any signs of injury's or sores.

In front of Byleth and Edelgard, looking up at them, were the remaining Golden Deer.

Leonie, Lorenz, Hilda, and Raphael. They had all survived the battle. They had been chained up, as a precaution, and arrested. A soldier stood behind them, ready with a small copper key in case he was allowed to release one of them from their handcuffs.

The former soldiers of the Alliance had already been dismissed, Edelgard telling them they were free to either join the Empire, or go home without their weapons. Some of them might put up a resistance in the long run, but he knew Edelgard and Hubert would crush any such thing.

Many chose to drop their weapons, but a few switched to the red.

Mostly those from regions bordering the Empire's traditional territories.

Merchant ships were returning to the port, having heard the battle was over, their various colors, the colors of their trade families filling up the port like a parade of colors. For them, their business would continue on as usual. The city needed a robust cleaning, but otherwise, what had changed for their businesses?

The Almyran ships were no longer there, Claude having sent them off. Byleth heard soldiers gossiping that Claude had punched Nader in front of his entire crew, demanding the release of the Black Eagles.

Why didn't he capture them instead? Was Claude really that furious with Nader, or was he guilty about Marianne?

Edelgard spoke to them.

"I wanted to let you know, that all of the former lands of the Alliance will be peacefully incorporated into the Empire. Only those who try to stop us will be touched."

She continued.

"In the interest of fairness..."

Lorenz interrupted her.

"Enough. We want to hear the Professor speak. He's more neutral than you are. Professor, speak plainly."

Byleth looked to Lorenz, then turned to Edelgard.

"Shall I?"

She spoke to Byleth.

"Go ahead. Say what you think is best."

Byleth? Byleth didn't know where she was even going with this conversation. She must want to recruit them. So what should he say to impress on them why they should serve Edelgard?

Byleth cleared his throat.

"Lorenz, Hilda, Leonie, Raphael...you all should serve Edelgard. The Church..."

Where was he going with this?

Did they even feel about the Church how many of the Black Eagles did?

He sighed.

"There is honor to be had in this war from fighting. Comradery. Even if...you don't know understand or agree with everything Edelgard does, she won't cast you out. She won't. I won't let her."

Edelgard's eyes grew wise.

"My teacher..."

Byleth nodded for his own benefit, convincing himself. Yes, that was right.

He asked her.

"Would you?"

"I respect your advice."

Byleth thought she'd say that.

"See? We are able to talk to her. She isn't a tyrant. I'm a mercenary... former mercenary. I'm not one to take orders easily. A lot may be asked of you, but nothing unreasonable."

He continued.

"We could fight together."

Lysithea piped up, commanding their attention.

"You can trust her. She treats me like everyone else...which is sometimes dreadful, and she can really get on my case. But Edelgard is fair. I really felt welcomed almost immediately."

Lorenz addressed Byleth.

"Let me ask you. Do you believe in this cause of hers? Do you think it is logical?"

Byleth was being challenged on this?

He thought Rhea was too demanding. He couldn't kill Edelgard. His reasons for siding with her were plain. But did he even really have a right to claim to know she was in the right when he knew so little about the religion of Fódlan? What were the repercussions of Edelgard's actions?

Byleth knew they wanted to hear an answer from him.

"I believe in Edelgard. That's what I know."

That was the truth. He knew that much. He believed in her.

Edelgard whispered to him in levelheaded, unemotional words. But her face betrayed her true feelings. Her pupils grew three sizes, and they scanned him, trying to double-check if he had really meant that. He didn't flinch. 

"Thank you. I'm elated you feel that way."

She spoke out loud now, in an imposing manner, as if she was ordering them.

"Those who are reluctant about serving the Empire will be placed under house arrest until the war ends. I do not promise you titles, but respect and fair compensation for your services if you join me." 

Lorenz responded.

"Hilda, Leonie, and I all are, to varying degrees, declining your offer. The Professor spoke fairly, as did Lysithea. I personally will not stand against you. It would be dishonorable to get desperate and flail around like a fish. But the answer is no. We talked about this earlier, so don't feel bad for not convincing us. Our minds were already set."

Byleth didn't really expect to convince them all.

It would've been nice to bond with Leonie over Jeralt, or get to know Hilda and Lorenz better. 

Wait.

Byleth scurried over to Hilda, crouching down next to her as he reached into his pocket.

She talked.

"Uh... is now really the time for whatever this is Professor? What are you doing? I'm kind of in mourning."

He pulled out several items, dumping them into the knapsack she kept on her side.

"Hey, what are you doing? That's private property."

Byleth was not missing this opportunity. This might be his one and only chance.

"I have a hair clip, a bottle of perfume, and several other items of yours. I tried to return them before, but you always forgot to pick them up from my office."

She spoke up.

"Are these from the Monastery? That was five years ago. I would've picked them up, but Edelgard was always in your office. She hogged you."

Edelgard blushed, putting a hand to her cheek.

"We were only sharing tea..."

Byleth zipped up Hilda's knapsack again, then stepped back.

"I've been meaning to give those back to you."

Lysithea spoke.

"If you wouldn't both mind, we haven't heard from Raphael yet. I'm interested in what he has to say."

Raphael grunted, pulling himself up, still in his chains.

The mage readied a spell, and half a dozen soldiers stationed several paces in front of them held out their spears.

They didn't know if he was trying to resist.

"Thanks, Lysithea. I have something to say."

He looked at Edelgard directly.

"I'm not a noble. I'm just a guy. Best of luck to you gang, but I can't just hang around. I trust the Professor and Lysithea on this. The Empire must be good, for both of them to side with it. I'll work for you Edelgard. Do I have to call you Emperor now?"

She looked back at Hubert, who was wearing a smirk.

This was great news. Raphael was a powerful fighter.

Edelgard also had wanted more commoners among her Generals, so that she could better understand how to help them. Raphael had more experience interacting with ordinary people than Edelgard did. Her whole life, she was suffocated by nobles breathing down her neck.

"I'll accept your oath of fealty now Raphael."

"Well gosh, you guys are serious. I'll have to lighten the mood I guess once we get familial. Can't wait to roast marshmallows over a campfire together."

He dropped to his knees now, his arms locked together behind his back.

He was a full foot taller than her. Even kneeling, he still was only shortly below her.

But he looked up to her with the same respect he'd give anyone else.

That was because Edelgard was someone who commanded respect, by her nature. It was how she carried herself. She could coerce an old man to bend the knee to her. But it also spoke volumes about Raphael's character.

"I Raphael, swear, on my honor as a Kirsten, and my heart, to serve you faithfully, Edelgard, as my Lord. So long as you are true to me, I will be true to you. My arms are yours, my legs walk only in your army, and uh...I guess my mouth speaks only of your deeds."

Edelgard spoke now.

"I accept your oath to me, Raphael Kirsten. You may arise as one of us... as a Black Eagle adoptee."

Lsyithea spoke.

"I was sort of missing you."

The soldier behind him unlocked Raphael's arms.

"You are free to go, sir."

Raphael stretched out his arms in a big 'y' formation.

"Ahhh. Feels good. My arms were getting cramped in those. Glad to be back with ya' Lysithea. I didn't like us being enemies."

The last soldiers from Adrestia were marching out now, led by Caspar, while some of them helped the Black Eagles who had been abducted. They all had weak legs from being tied down to the floor of a ship for so long.

Dorothea was holding Linhardt's legs up, while Lysithea rushed over to grab his head.

He was awake, but he had lost too much blood to stand.

If Byleth had needed divine pulse...

Linhardt would be dead. He couldn't have possibly used it in the state he was in earlier.

Sothis heard him.

"You can't worry about what didn't happen. It all worked out. She kept them safe."

Byleth looked at Edelgard.

She had.

Raphael, unaware of Byleth's private thoughts, asked an unrelated question as he looked at the Black Eagles leaving the city, a guard now summoning the remaining Deer to their feet. They would be escorted out of Derdriu, and back to their homes to be watched over by a warden loyal to the Empire.

"Hey, Professor, Edelgard. You're preparing a victory feast right? I'm famished."

Byleth spoke.

"I suppose we should."

Edelgard nodded a 'yes', silently responding to him.

Edelgard looked to her teacher.

"Walk with me?"

Byleth followed her, Raphael in tow. She kept her shoulder against him, leaning into him while they walked.

They did so in relative silence.

Byleth and Edelgard observed the carnage as they stood side by side.

Dead and dying from both sides slumped over rubble. A toppled gargoyle or two that had fallen off the wealthiest homes roofs. The ruins of Derdriu.

The gutters he had sat in earlier were running red.

A few souls had taken the first steps out of their houses, to survey the damage.

For Byleth, he felt haunted by Marianne's death.

He hadn't wanted to kill her. But he had. Had he just stolen someone else's loved one?

Maybe it was because he knew her, but her death was going to remain with him longer than the bilge he normally dispatched with.

This is what it took to be with Edelgard. This is what the cause took.

He wasn't sorry for protecting his students. He wasn't overly bothered by the mere fact he had done it.

But it felt wrong to just forget Marianne. To dismiss her death as nothing more than a consequence of war. She wasn't just some meaningless victim.

Byleth walked onto the well-trodden road out of Derdriu that ran past wheat fields on one side, and a forest, the one that had hidden in at the start of the day, on the other.

The setting sun, with a scarlet sky set on the imperial army marching back to their camp, and the Leicester Alliance.

Today was the day of the last sun to ever shine on the Alliance...

He thought of her in her final moments. Shut eyes and a grimacing mouth. She had died...sad.

It was the last day the sun smiled at Marianne.

A student he couldn't save.

Byleth kept his eyes half-closed, his face solemn. 

Yeah, that wasn't something he'd easily forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter probably had the most time sunk into it. I spent some time thinking out how the story should progress beyond this point, wanted to plan out the trail ahead. The Alliance half of the Crimson Flower playthrough felt short, I think this beefed up the Battle of Derdriu. I think the concept of TWSITD causing a ruckus early on for the Empire reveals the strenuous nature of their alliance, and Claude is left with more reason to want to leave Fódlan. Stick around, you may see him show up again, far later. 
> 
> The Battle of Derdriu: Now with 100% more unrealistic male armor.
> 
> Apologies if you are in the Marianne gang. Rest in peace.


End file.
